^BPHMMHK 


THE    MEDDLING   HUSSY 


HWV.  0V  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELE* 


.:.   IftM 


"  There  were  three  of  us  training  that  gun." 


63 


THE  MEDDLING  HUSSY 

Being  Fourteen  Tales  Retold 


BY 

CLINTON    ROSS 


NEW    YORK 
STONE   AND    KIMBALL 

M  DCCCXCVII 


COPYRIGHT,   1897,    BY 
STONE     AND     KIMBALL 


TO 

C.  R.  H. 


2132420 


author  begs  to  acknowledge  his  in 
debtedness  to  the  Messrs.  Harper  and 
Brothers,  the  S.  S.  McClure  Co.,  the  Messrs. 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  the  Batcheller  Syn 
dicate,  Mr.  Bartlett  Arkell  of  "Leslie's 
Weekly"  and  to  Mr.  Lorillard  Spencer  of 
the  "Illustrated  American,"  for  permission  to 
reprint  these  tales.  One,  "  The  Extreme 
Edge  of  Hazard,"  is  reprinted  through  the 
good  favor  of  the  Messrs.  G.  P.  Putnam's 
Sons. 


Vll 


THE  AUTHOR  ro  His  READER 

"Tis  obvious  that  where  there's  a  story 
there  's  a  woman.  Though  Louis  Stevenson 
often  was  pleased  to  ignore  her,  still  she  was 
somewhere  in  the  experience  of  his  characters. 
So  I  have  ventured  to  call  this  collection  by 
one  of  the  tales,  "  The  Meddling  Hussy ,- " 
not  indeed  because  I  hold  that  tale  of  better 
quality  than  the  others,  nor  because  a  wo 
man  appears  in  them  all,  —  but  because  she  is 
ever  a-meddling  with  our  affairs,  and,  for 
the  most,  improving  them  and  making  them 
endurable.  '• 

You  will  notice,  should  you  be  induced  to 
read  them  all,  that  there  are  included  tales  of 
American  wars,  and  two  others  which  are 
historical,  and  three  which  are  the  slightest 
comedies  of  the  New  Road,  and  one  a  tale  of 
a  ship's  smoking-room.  You  may  ask  whv 


subjects  so  divergent  appear  under  one  cover ; 
and  I  will  say  that  the  sole  reason  is  that 
the  author  is  trying  to  prove  his  case.  Ah, 
how  difficult  is  that  proof,  dear  Reader  !  I 
call  you  dear  Reader,  trusting  that  the  kindly 
person,  who  presided  over  English  letters  a 
century  since,  may  have  a  descendant. 
I  am  then, 

Yours  faithfully, 

CLINTON  Ross. 
At  New  York, 

4th  Oct.,  i8g6. 


Contents 

Part  I 
Tales  of  American  Wars 

PAGE 

The  Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester  1 7 

The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  "     .  47 
The  Impulsiveness  of  Monsieur  de 

la  Fayette 75 

The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard    .      .  103 

The  Decoy  Despatch        .     .     .      .  135 
The    Pretty    Wit    of  Captain  Paul 

Jones 151 

The  Meddling  Hussy 179 

Part  II 
Tales  of  Personages 

The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas    .      219 

When  Position  Fails 265 

xi 


Contents 

Part  III 
Tales  of  the  New  Road 

PAGE 

Angela 295 

The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer     .      .      315 
The  Lady  of  the  Road      ....      343 

Part  IV 

A  Tale  of  an  India  Mystery 
The  Square  Diamond 365 


A  Tale  of  the  Ghost  of  the  Stretching 
Moor 

The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox  .      .     385 


xn 


Part  I 

Tales  of  American  Wars 


The  Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 


The  Confession  of  Colonel 
Sylvester 

SHE  stood  against  the  doorway  of  the 
manor  house  as  I  rode  up,  and  she 
was  handing  her  bridle-rein  to  a  fat  Dutch 
boy.  If  her  faded  green  habit  told  of  sun 
and  rain,  it  told  no  more  than  the  thin, 
flushed  face  and  the  eyes  that  questioned 
my  approach.  I  fidgeted,  thinking  of 
woman's  tears,  dismounted  as  clumsily  as 
a  boy  who  is  learning  the  saddle,  bowed 
as  awkwardly  as  any  lout.  Yet  I  might 
not  have  been  so  troubled,  I  '11  confess  it, 
had  she  been  old  and  ugly. 

Not  that  she  was  reckoned,  by  standard 
of  feature,  attractive ;  but  there  was  some 
thing  piquant  in  the  turn  of  her  nose,  and 
in  the  moulding  of  her  lips,  which  seemed 
to  hold  either  laughter  or  severity. 
2  17 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"  I  wish  to  see  Colonel  Van  Brule,  if 
I  may  ?  " 

I  thought  she  paled. 

"  He  is  not  at  home,  sir.  Who  shall  I 
say  ?  " 

"  John  Sylvester.  May  I  not  wait  for 
him  ?  " 

"  He  will  not  be  back  to-day.  What 
do  you  want  ?  " 

The  question  was  direct,  and,  I  dare 
say,  I  should  have  used  subterfuge,  but 
something  in  her  eyes  forbade.  I  did 
not  like  my  mission  at  all,  under  their 
scrutiny. 

"  I  came  to  take  him  to  General  Wash 
ington." 

"  Mr.  Washington  wishes  my  father  ?  " 

"  General  Wash  —  " 

"Ah,  I  forgot,  sir.  You  are  a  rebel 
officer.  But  we  can't  address  a  person 
who  has  not  the  king's  permit  by  a  title 
other  than  the  common  one." 

"It  doesn't  matter  about  titles,  Miss 
Van  Brule,  but  facts,  you  know.  I  believe 
18 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

Lord  Howe  had  a  little  dispute  about  them, 
and  ended  by  calling  the  general,  General 
Washington."  I  was  piqued  by  her  con- 
temptuousness. 

"  His  Lordship  has  need  to  be  politic. 
Yet,  although  we  are  on  different  sides  of 
the  question,  Mr.  Sylvester,  I  '11  try  to 
be  hospitable,  remembering  you  have  had 
twenty  miles  in  the  saddle.  If  you  '11 
come  in,  I  shall  be  glad  to  offer  you 
tea." 

"  I  shall  be  glad,  but  —  " 

"  I  had  forgotten  a  rebel  would  sooner 
drink  poison,"  and  she  laughed  softly  in 
my  face. 

"  You  see,"  said  I,  fidgeting,  "  I  really 
came  here  to  arrest  Colonel  Van  Brule, 
and  your  invitation  is  such  a  coal  of 
fire  —  " 

"  Oh,  is  it  ?  I  only  thought  it  simple 
good  manners,  but  if  you  want  — " 

"  Oh,  I  will  —  gladly  —  if  you  will 
excuse  my  embarrassment.  Really  this 
mission  was  not  to  my  mind.  I  am  sure 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

General  Washington  intends  only  to  de 
tain  Colonel  Van  Brule  for  a  few  hours, 
and  —  " 

But  she  did  not  appear  interested. 

"  And  now,  sir,  if  you  '11  do  us  the 
honor." 

She  went  before,  turning  around  with  a 
curious  expression  that  I  could  not  explain. 
Was  she  trying  to  give  Colonel  Van  Brule 
chance  to  escape  ?  I  had  seen  no  one  ex 
cept  her  and  the  boy.  The  hall,  extending 
the  length  of  the  house,  the  square  room 
into  which  I  was  ushered,  both  were  de 
serted  ;  and  here,  with  a  smile,  a  little 
bow,  she  left  me. 

I  stepped  to  a  deep-set  window,  the 
thick  shutters  fixed  with  heavy  iron  bars, 
looking  out  over  the  green  slopes  to  the 
Sound.  Some  men  were  harvesting  —  a 
strange  sight  when  all  about  was  war,  and 
rumor  of  war.  An  opening  door  led  me 
to  turn  about,  when  I  saw  a  courtesying 
serving-woman,  who  laid  out  a  service  of 
tea  and  cakes.  The  silver  bore  the  Dutch 
20 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

arms ;  the  china  was  some  rare  sort ;  and 
just  then  the  door  opened  on  the  mistress 
of  the  manor,  who  had  changed  her  gown 
to  one  that  might  not  have  been  mis 
placed  in  town.  She  said  something  to 
the  woman,  who  went  out. 

"  Will  you  have  tea  ?  The  fact  is,  my 
father  and  I  are  the  only  members  of  our 
family,  and,  now,  the  times  being  so  dis 
turbed  we  do  little  visiting.  Let  me  see 
—  I  have  been  nowhere  for  a  week,  when 
I  was  a  day  at  the  Philipses." 

"  Really  this  is  the  most  delightful 
hospitality." 

"  Particularly  because  unexpected,"  she 
said,  with  a  curious  expression  in  that 
well-toned  voice.  "  Oh,  I  'm  a  poor 
player.  This  is  false  hospitality  —  for  — 
I  have  you  here  as  prisoner." 

"  A  prisoner,"  said  I,  looking  at  this 
undeniably  handsome  lady  of  the  manor, 
and  wondering  if  she  might  be  mad. 

"  Yes,  prisoner.  I  really  am  sorry  to 
say  it,  but  it 's  necessary  —  " 

21 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"  And  why  ?  "  And  then  recovering 
myself,  with  a  weak  attempt  at  gallantry, 
"  I  'm  not  an  unwilling  one,  I  'm  sure." 

"  You  don't  care  to  be  in  the  battle 
which  will  be  on  Long  Island  to-mor 
row  ?  " 

"  A  battle  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  a  battle ;  and  it  was  necessary 
for  me  to  detain  you  here,  because  my 
father  has  gone  to  Long  Island,  and  I 
did  n't  want  you  to  know  it,  as  you  would 
if  you  left  here." 

"  But  I  can  go,  can't  I  ?  "  said  I,  as  if 
she  were  jesting. 

"  A  man  with  a  musket  is  behind  each 
door." 

"  And  my  men  ?  " 

"  Are  disarmed,  and  guarded  in  our 
stable.  You  would  better  sit  down,"  said 
my  hostess,  demurely.  And  then  I  no 
ticed  by  her  plate  a  little  pistol.  Seeing 
my  glance,  she  said,  flushing :  — 

"  And   I   know   how  to  use  a  pistol.      I 
do  not  rely  entirely  on  my  men." 
22 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"  Yes,  frankly,"  said  I,  collecting  my 
wit,  "  I  have  my  sword  and  pistol.  You 
have  your  pistol,  your  charming  self,  and 
some  Tory  servants  —  " 

"  About  twenty,  Mr.  Sylvester,"  she 
said,  looking  me  over. 

"  But  why  should  my  knowledge  of 
Colonel  Van  Brule  having  gone  to  Long 
Island  be  dangerous  ?  " 

She  hesitated ;  and  I  saw  that  although 
she  knew  it  was  more  discreet  not  to  tell, 
a  common  feminine  weakness  —  a  wish 
to  flaunt  her  triumph  —  led  her  to  the 
fact. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  should  n't  tell. 
My  father  is  this  moment  showing  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  an  unguarded  pass  among 
the  Bedford  Hills.  By  occupying  it,  the 
king's  troops  will  be  able  to  turn  the  rebel 
flank  —  is  that  the  right  term  ?  " 

I  did  not  apologize  for  what  I  said. 

"  Please  to  sit  down.  We  will  dine 
directly.  Don't  go  to  that  door.  I  'm 
in  earnest  in  saying  I  have  a  man  sta- 
23 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

tioned  there  with  orders  to  shoot  you 
down  if  you  try  to  go." 

"  But  why  should  I  be  detained  ?  How 
could  I  have  had  the  information  —  which 
you  give  me  yourself?  " 

"  I  was  afraid  you  might  find  out  from 
some  spy,  and  stop  my  father  before  he 
could  reach  Long  Island." 

"  But  why  do  you  tell  me  about  what 
he  intends  ?  "  I  still  questioned. 

"  I  suppose  to  justify  my  false  hospi 
tality.  I  really  don't  like  what  I  'm 
doing." 

"  It 's  very  extraordinary  of — a  woman." 

"  Oh,  is  it  ?      But  all 's  fair  in  war." 

"  Love  and  war,"  said  I,  reflecting  ;  and 
at  twenty-five  one  does  n't  like  to  show 
too  much  chagrin  before  a  pretty  woman. 

"  The  poets  are  silly.  There  's  a  lot 
that 's  unfair  in  both." 

"  Yes ;  I  think  this  is  unfair,"  said  I, 
trying  to  appeal  to  her  sympathies. 

I  must  outwit  this  little  intriguer.  I 
must  get  word  to  New  York.  If  there 
24 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

were  to  be  a  fight,  I  too  must  be  in  it. 
And  it  was  certain  that  we  stood  every 
chance  of  being  surrounded,  should  Sir 
Henry  get  behind  General  Putnam,  should 
the  ships  of  line  beat  up  the  bay. 

My  hostess  had  been  noting  me,  and,  I 
think,  reading  my  thoughts. 

"  I  '11  speak  to  Gretchen  about  bringing 
the  dinner  in  here  —  instead  of  the  dining- 
room." 

«  Why  here  ?  " 

"  I  can  guard  this  room  more  con 
veniently.  Will  you  excuse  me  ?  " 

I  noticed  she  held  the  little  pistol  close. 
As  the  door  shut  I  heard  a  key  turn  on 
the  outside.  Quickly  I  walked  to  the 
window  out  of  which  I  had  looked;  and 
then  I  heard  her  voice. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Sylvester,  it  is  only  fair 
to  warn  you  that  if  you  get  out  that 
window  you  '11  be  shot  down." 

'T  was  a  shot  from  her  eyes  I  had,  de 
bating  the  chances  of  running  and  warn 
ing  my  chief  of  the  plot  I  had  found  in 
25 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

this  Westchester  manor.  But  I  did  not 
see  very  clearly  how  I  should ;  for  I  had 
not  doubted  she  spoke  truly,  and  that  I  was 
too  well  guarded  to  have  any  chance  left. 
She  stood  in  the  room  now,  looking  me 
over  with  triumph,  her  hands  crossed  be 
hind  her. 

"  I  confess,  Miss  Van  Brule,  I  am  your 
prisoner,"  after  waiting  for  her  to  break 
the  silence. 

"  Apparently,"  said  she,  with  a  sus 
picion  of  a  smile. 

"  If  all  the  Tories  are  like  you,  I  sup 
pose  we  may  as  well  give  up  now  as  any 
other  time." 

"  Oh,  your  case  is  hopeless.  Frankly, 
I  'm  sorry  for  you.  But  how  can  a  man 
of  your  position  take  up  with  the  wrong 
side  ?  " 

"  My  personal  opinion  —  that  is  all. 
My  brother  is  as  decided  for  the  king 
as  you." 

"  I  suppose  if  you  once  had  taken  my 
father  to  New  York,  he  would  have 
26 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

been  thrown  into  prison  like  Major  Mat 
thews." 

"I  think  he  was  called  to  New  York 
simply  that  he  might  be  questioned." 

"And  by  what  right  would  they  ques 
tion  him,  who  is  responsible  only  to  the 
king's  government  ?  " 

But  how  could  I  answer  a  question  of 
opinion  on  which  the  whole  dispute  hung  ? 

"  Your  mission  was  contemptible.  If 
I  may  have  played  you  a  trick,  I  'm  not 
ashamed  of  it.  I  am  only  sorry  I  thought 
proper  to  apologize." 

She  said  this  spiritedly,  eyes  flashing, 
face  reddening. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  blame  you,  Miss  Van 
Brule." 

"  Do  you  think  I  care  whether  you  may 
or  not  ?  " 

"  That 's  the  trouble,"  said  I,  "  you 
don't.  I  wish  you  did." 

"  And  then  you  might  have  a  chance  to 
get  out  of  this  fix,"  said  she,  smiling. 

The  same  old  woman,  as  the  afternoon 
27 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

paled,  came  in,  removing  the  tea-table,  and 
making  ready  the  dinner.  I  did  not  see 
the  evidence  of  any  one  at  all  in  the  hall 
when  I  peered  into  its  recesses. 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  look,  Mr.  Sylvester. 
Your  guard  is  not  far  away  ?  " 

"  But  if  I  took  the  chance  ?  " 

"I  should  hate  to  have  you  shot."  I 
fancied  the  serving-woman  smiled. 

"  I  don't  exactly  fancy  it  myself,  being 
rather  fond  of  life,  you  know." 

"  You  should  not  be  too  serious.  You 
forget  it 's  unbecoming  at  dinner,"  said  she, 
lightly,  passing  the  bread. 

"  You  must  pardon  my  poor  manners 
—  under  the  circumstances." 

"  They  must  be  put  to  rather  a  test," 
looking  at  the  little  pistol  beside  her  plate. 

"  Now  suppose  I  should  snatch  that  ?  " 
I  began. 

She  snatched  it  herself,  trembling,  and 
reddening,  as  she  had  a  way  of  doing,  I 
had  found. 

"  But  you  would  n't,  Mr.  Sylvester." 
28 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"  And  why  not  ?  Because  It  would  be 
ungallant?  I  easily  could  take  it,  and 
frighten  you  into  letting  me  go." 

"  Yes,  you  might ;  but  I  have  been 
warned." 

"  Oh,  I  will  not.  Put  your  pistol  away, 
Miss  Van  Brule." 

"  Really  ;  on  your  word  of  honor  ?  " 

"  I  have  said  I  would  n't." 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  put  it  there  by  the 
plate." 

"  Thank  you.  I  have  to  thank  you  for 
much  —  first  an  invitation  to  tea  —  and 
then  dinner." 

"  And  imprisonment." 

"  A  delightful  one  —  on  account  of  the 
gaoler." 

"  Oh,  you  are  very  gallant.  I  dare  say 
you  have  had  practice  enough." 

"  Now  I  have  provocation." 

u  If  you  don't  mind,  I  have  small  taste 
for  pretty  speeches." 

"  I  can't  help  them." 

"  Possibly  not.  But,  to  change  the  sub- 
29 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

ject,  I  am  bound  to  amuse  you  in  some 
way.      What  do  you  say  to  chess  ?  " 

I  played  an  indifferent  game,  I  told  her, 
when  she  took  out  the  board,  and  the  ser 
vant  began  to  clear  the  table.  Candles 
were  brought,  and  we  sat  down,  she  hav 
ing  the  first  move.  Watching  her,  I  easily 
was  checkmated,  and  of  course  asked  for 
revenge,  saying  it  was  only  fair,  seeing  she 
had  checkmated  me,  not  alone  in  chess. 
And  so  we  sat  there  in  the  old  house,  I 
the  prisoner,  and  she  the  gaoler,  moving 
our  pieces,  while  down  in  the  city,  and  on 
Long  Island,  the  game  of  war  was  playing. 
Suddenly  she  grew  distraught,  making  some 
mismoves,  out  of  keeping  with  her  skill. 

"  You  have  lost  your  queen." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  play,"  she  cried,  bursting 
into  tears.  "  I  hate  it." 

A  woman  in  tears,  I  don't  know  what 
to  say  and  do  ;  and  now  I  made  the  most 
clumsy  attempts,  apologizing  for  what  I 
knew  not,  and  asking  what  I  could  do; 
and  she  laughed,  but  said  gravely, — 
3° 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"  I  was  thinking  of  my  father  over  there 
on  Long  Island.  He  may  be  in  danger 
—  he  is." 

"  But  the  game.  I  shall  checkmate 
you  this  time." 

"  No,  you  won't,  because  I  won't 
play." 

"  Now  that 's  truly  feminine." 

41  Yes,  it  is  —  to  give  in  because  I  know 
I  'm  beaten." 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  case." 

"  Oh,  I  see  you  know  women." 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  so  sure." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  were." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon.  The  young 
lady  who  takes  a  prisoner  of  war  certainly 
perplexes  one  a  bit." 

"  Does  she  ?     Ah,  does  she  ?  " 

And  she  changed  the  subject. 

The  clock,  somewhere  in  the  hall,  sent 
out  a  sepulchral  ten. 

"  Jacob  will  show  you  your  room." 

"  My  dungeon,  I  suppose." 

"  Oh,  well,  our  houses  may  not  be  so 
31 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

comfortable  as  those   in   Maryland.      Ja 
cob  ! " 

"  Yes,  'urn."  The  boy  seemed  to  have 
been  in  hearing,  and  now  was  in  the  door 
way,  round,  fat,  curious. 

"  I  believe  your  parole  does  n't  extend 
to  trying  to  get  away?  " 

"  Only  to  seizing  your  pistol,  and  turn 
ing  into  an  escaped  prisoner." 

"  There 's  one  window  in  your  room, 
but  a  man  will  watch  under  it." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say." 

"  It 's  a  pity  you  're  on  the  wrong  side." 

"  It 's  a  pity  you  are,  if  you  will  allow 
me." 

"  You  are  incorrigible.      Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  said  I,  extending  my 
hand.  "  I  have  had  a  delightful  evening." 

"  It 's  quite  as  if  you  were  only  my 
guest." 

"  Quite."  I  could  not  resist  pressing 
the  hand,  when  she  withdrew  it  angrily. 

"  By  the  way,  I  hope  my  men  are  com 
fortable  ?  " 

32 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"They  have  every  attention  under  the 
circumstances." 

"  So  it  appears,  have  I  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer  this  sally,  and  I  fol 
lowed  Jacob  into  the  hall,  and  upstairs. 

11  When  would  you  like  to  have  me 
bring  your  shaving-water  ?  "  said  Jacob. 

"  But  I  have  n't  razors." 

"  I  '11  fetch  Colonel  Van  Brule's,  sir." 

He  took  the  shilling  with  a  grin,  show 
ing  his  teeth  like  a  Maryland  darky.  But 
I  could  not  prevail  on  him  to  tell  me  about 
the  force  of  the  manor.  He  locked  the 
door  behind  him,  and  I  saw  it  was  heavy 
oak,  and  could  not  be  broken  in  easily. 
It  was  very  dark,  but  I  thought  I  could 
see  a  figure  under  my  window  on  the 
lawn. 

And,  then,  I  sat  down  to  think  over 
the  extraordinary  adventure. 

Here  I  was  caged  by  a  girl,  as  many  a 
man  before,  and  since,  has  been ;  and  I 
knew  —  because  I  could  not  deceive  my 
self —  that  I  doubtless  had  not  tried  to  get 
3  33 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

away  as  I  might  have  if  this  young  lady 
had  been,  say,  Colonel  Van  Brule.  I 
could  not  make  out  why  she  should  detain 
me,  unless  indeed  it  had  been  all  as  she 
had  said,  and  the  colonel  really  was  show 
ing  the  pass  in  the  Bedford  Hills.  Would 
she  let  me  go  in  the  morning  when  the 
mischief  was  all  done  ;  or  turn  me  over  to 
the  British  ?  She  really  was  quite  capable 
of  it.  At  any  rate  she  was  an  extraordi 
nary  young  woman.  I  fancied  she  was 
opposite  me  at  the  chess-board.  We  were 
playing  a  most  exciting  game  for  some  stake 
that  I  held  dear,  and  I  always  was  check 
mated  ;  and  always  was  that  smile  from 
the  enigmatical  gray  eyes.  And  in  my 
bad  temper  I  overturned  the  board,  when 
the  low  boom  of  guns  broke  in  on  the 
stillness  —  probably  the  men  of  the  manor, 
carrying  out  their  mistress's  orders. 

I  was  rubbing  my  eyes.     The  August 
dawn  was  contending  with  burnt  and  sput 
tering  candles.      But  if  I  had  been  dream 
ing  all  night  there  in  the  chair,  the  rumble 
34 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

was  distant,  yet  unmistakably  that  of  heavy 
guns.  The  wind  was  in  the  right  direc 
tion  ;  and  I  knew  that  the  righting  at  last 
had  begun  on  Long  Island.  But  how 
was  it  going  ?  Was  the  position  indeed 
surrounded  ?  Was  the  fleet  shelling  the 
town  ? 

Asking  these  questions,  I  was  now  look 
ing  out  of  the  window,  where  the  darkish 
dawn  was  scattering  the  shadows  from  the 
hollows  of  the  hills.  If  I  had  fancied  I 
had  seen  a  figure  guarding,  there  was  no 
one  now  in  view.  Opening  the  window, 
I  measured  the  distance,  some  thirty  feet, 
debating  whether  I  should  try  it.  Should 
I,  it  doubtless  would  be  with  the  conse 
quence  of  a  broken  arm  or  leg,  and  that 
only  would  hinder  my  chance  of  escaping. 
If  I  could  not  help  the  situation  by  giving 
the  warning,  I,  at  least,  wanted  to  be  in 
this  fight.  I  had  been  in  none  yet,  and 
at  twenty-five  I  longed  for  it,  wondering 
whether,  like  Frederick  of  Prussia,  I  should 
run.  All  the  drilling  we  had  done  with 
35 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

Smallwood's,  all  our  talk  over  what  we 
should  do,  returned  with  an  insistence  for 
action  on  my  part.  I  tried  the  door  and 
saw  again  I  was  not  equal  to  breaking  it 
in.  And  again  looking  out  of  the  window, 
I  threw  myself  on  the  bed,  while  a  plan 
began  to  formulate  which  was  connected 
with  Jacob  and  the  shaving. 

And  while  I  considered,  and  the  hours 
passed,  the  far-away  guns  kept  up  a  dull 
chorus. 

But  finally,  as  I  had  expected,  came  the 
knock,  and  Jacob's  voice ;  and  when  I 
answered  the  creaking  key,  and  Jacob 
with  the  shaving-water,  and  a  civil  "  good- 
morning,  sir,"  I  asked  him  to  put  the 
pitcher  on  the  table,  and  then,  as  his  back 
was  turned,  I  was  on  him,  holding  his 
arms,  with  a  hand  over  his  mouth,  and 
bearing  him  to  the  floor.  Strong  as  he 
was,  I  was  wiry,  and  had  the  advantage. 
We  must  have  made  a  fearful  noise  in  the 
house,  overturning  chairs  and  the  table. 
Every  moment  I  expected  interruption, 
36 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

but  kept  on,  choking  the  poor  Dutch  boy 
just  enough  so  that  he  gasped,  giving  me 
a  chance  to  tear  the  sheets  from  the  bed, 
and  to  bind  and  gag  him.  He  stared  in 
a  pathetic  way  j  felt  keenly,  I  knew,  his 
duty  to  his  mistress.  But  I  had  no  time, 
and  taking  my  sword  went  hastily  into  the 
hall,  and  there  half  way  on  the  stairs  she 
met  me.  No  one  else  was  in  sight,  and, 
suddenly,  something  occurred  that  made 
my  position  ridiculous.  What  if  from 
the  first  she  had  been  tricking  me  ?  What 
if  there  were  only  she,  the  woman,  and  the 
boy  in  the  house  ?  And  I  had  submitted 
as  easily  as  you  could  wish. 

"Where  are  the  others  ?  "  said  I,  paus 
ing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  sword  in 
hand  against  this  girl. 

"I  —  I  don't  —  "  she  began  in  confu 
sion,  and  I  saw  she  was  haggard  in  the 
morning  light. 

"  You  fooled  me,  Miss  Van  Brule. 
There  were  none." 

"  Two  men  in  the  stable,  while  I  cer- 
37 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

tainly  should   have  shot  you  myself  if  you 
had  tried  to  get  away." 

"  You  're  cleverer  at  this  game  than  at 
chess.     And  I  believed  you  —  " 

"  Yes,  you  did." 

"  And  you,  doubtless,  intended  deliver 
ing  me  to  the  British  ?  " 

«  Frankly,  I  did." 

"  Oh,  I  've  been  prettily  deceived  —  " 

And  I  pushed  past  her. 

"  What  did  you  do  with  Jacob  ?  " 

"  I  killed  him,"  said  I,  wickedly. 

"  You  wretch  !     You  dared  ?  " 

There  were  tears  in  the  gray  eyes,  and 
in  an  instant  I  had  added, — 

"Oh,    I    didn't    at    all.      That    firing 
made  me  desperate  —  " 

"  And  me.      My  father  may  be  in  it." 

"  And  I  will  be." 

At  this  moment  I  heard  heavy  steps, 
and  suspecting  I  might  be  caught  after  all, 
I  dashed  down  the  stairs,  almost  knocking 
down  a  fellow  with  a  musket.  And  then 
I  heard  her  voice, — 
38 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  don't  fire.  Let 
him  go." 

That  was  odd,  was  n't  it  ?  But  I  did 
not  pause  to  think  about  it,  but  ran  out 
through  the  door,  and  down  the  slope  to 
the  road,  and  over  the  fence.  I  must 
have  made  a  strange  appearance  in  the 
scarlet  and  buff  of  Smallwood's,  with  a 
drawn  sword  in  my  hand,  running  there  in 
the  Westchester  fields.  (When  I  had 
joined  the  general's  staff  I  still  kept  my 
Maryland  uniform.) 

And  then  I  paused,  and  fell  to  laughter 
over  the  joke.  What  a  silly  fool !  This 
girl  had  turned  me  about  her  finger.  An 
adroit  tactician,  indeed,  I  !  But  folly 
usually  is  culpable.  By  my  blindness  I 
had  failed  to  give  the  warning  that  might 
now  be  turning  the  day  against  us  over 
there  on  the  Island.  My  pretty  Tory  had 
tricked  me  neatly. 

I  had  forgotten  my  men ;  and  I  turned 
back.  The  trickery  should  n't  extend  that 
far. 

39 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

I  walked  boldly  now  to  the  stable  door, 
no  one  hindering.  A  big  fellow  was 
currying  a  horse. 

"  My  men,  rascal !  " 

He  stood  in  open-mouthed  wonder 
and  fear,  for  I  must  have  appeared  vi 
cious. 

A  pounding  on  an  inner  door  here 
began,  and  the  cries  of  my  two  fellows, 
one  of  them  declaring  that  the  door 
would  n't  break.  He  had  been  trying  it 
all  night,  with  his  strength. 

"  Open,"  said  I,  threatening  the  groom 
with  my  sword.  He  decided  to  open, 
growling  his  remonstrance.  My  two 
would  have  killed  him  then  and  there, 
until  I  had  to  swear  at  them — a  thing 
I  'm  loath  to  do  at  one's  inferiors ;  but 
sometimes  it  is  necessary.  They  were  hun 
gry  and  sad-looking  crows ;  for  although 
they  had  been  driven  into  the  little  dark 
harness-room  at  the  butt  of  the  musket, 
their  captors  had  not  dared  to  go  near 
them.  I  told  them  to  get  the  horses ;  and 
40 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

then,  better  satisfied  with  myself,  I  saun 
tered  up  to  the  house. 

She  stood  before  the  door,  looking  at 
me  defiantly. 

"  Good-day  to  you,  Miss  Van  Brule." 

She  tossed  her  head  disdainfully. 

"  The  game  is  my  way." 

"  Why  should  n't  it  be  ?  You  're  a 
man." 

"  I  regret  I  must  exact  reparation." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  must  take  you  to  New  York  as  a 
dangerous  Tory." 

Her  eyes  flashed,  and  she  stamped  her 
foot. 

"  It 's  like  you  rebels  —  to  make  war 
on  women." 

"  You  started  it." 

"  Ah,  I  did  keep  you  here,"  she  cried ; 
"and  Sir  Henry  has  them  surrendered,  I 
know." 

I  called  to  my  men  to  bring  up  my 
horse.  They  were  still  murmuring  over 
their  treatment,  and  eyed  the  mistress  of 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

the  manor  malevolently.  But  I  stared  at 
them,  and  told  them  to  ride  on,  which 
they  did  grumblingly. 

"  Good-by,"  said  I  to  her. 

She  looked  me  full  in  the  face. 

"  But  I  'm  sorry  —  to  have  tricked  you 
-  really  —  " 

Have  I   not  said  my  pulse  was    easily 
made  riotous  ? 

"  Don't  be,"  said  I. 

"  You  're  silly,"  said  she.     "  And  —  " 

"  And  what  ?  " 

"  We    don't    know    each    other  —  and 
you  're  rebel." 

"  That     means    you    always    will    hate 
me  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  didn't   say  that.     Why  don't 
you  go  on  after  the  men  ?  " 

"  I  will  —  when  you    tell    me    to    call 
again." 

"  Oh,  do,  if  you  only  go." 

There    was    that    in    her    eyes    telling 
more. 

"  How  dare  you  ?  "  said  she. 
42 


Confession  of  Colonel  Sylvester 

As  I  rode  away,  I  looked  back  at  the 
little  trickster  of  the  manor,  who  stood 
blushing  as  I  had  left  her,  and  I  doffed  my 
hat,  and  called  back,  "  We  shall  meet 
again;"  and  we  did,  as  you  know.  But 
that  morning,  with  the  dull  boom  of  the 
guns  from  the  battle  at  Brooklyn  in  my 
ears,  I  whipped  up  after  my  men  on  my 
tardy  way  to  the  war. 


43 


The  Colors  of  the  "Lawrence" 


45 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

A  Surgeon's  Tale  of  the  Lake  Battle  for 
the  West 

MASTER  Commandant  Perry  stood 
talking  with  Master  Commandant 
Eliot  of  the  "  Niagara."  Captain  Perry's 
eyes — I  will  call  him  captain,  although 
he  had  not  that  title  then  —  moved  un 
easily.  For  the  moment  I  thought  him 
too  young.  What  could  he  do  against  the 
one-armed  veteran  of  Trafalgar,  Captain 
Heriot  Barclay  ?  Lieutenant  Buchan,  too, 
had  fought  with  Nelson.  Thump  went 
my  heart  as  I  leaned  over  the  rail,  and 
Sailing-Master  Taylor,  brushing  against  me, 
rallied  me  on  my  pallor. 

"  Humph,  doctor,  are  ye  ready  ?  " 
"  We  Ve  orders  to  have  our  instruments 
bared  in  that  cock-pit,"  said  I. 
47 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

"  It 's  a  cock-pit  too  high  up,  eh  ?  "  said 
the  sailing-master;  and  I  assure  you  he 
was  right  about  the  wretched  hole. 

"  What  will  ye  have  when  a  twenty- 
four-pounder  comes  sailing  through  the 
new  oak  and  chestnut  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head.  He  chuckled  and 
passed  on.  I  saw  a  great  bird  sailing  high 
above,  and  the  stretch  of  lake,  —  saw,  and 
did  not  see ;  for  I  was  thinking  just  then 
of  a  girl  I  knew  in  New  York,  and  of  how 
I  should  have  liked  to  see  her  for  a  mo 
ment.  And  then  I  was  reminded  by  a 
groan  below  of  a  poor  chap  in  the  delirium 
of  lake  fever.  And  as  I  looked  out  at  the 
ships  lined  before  me,  it  all  returned :  the 
journey  to  Albany,  and  down  the  Mohawk, 
and  over  the  corduroy  roads,  and  on  the 
lake  in  the  dreary  March  winds,  and  the 
lonely  sail  to  Presque  Isle,  and  the  dismal 
life  we  led  at  the  tavern  flaunting  the  creak 
ing  sign  "  Dunlop's  Erie  Hotel." 

From  the  first  it  had  been  a  perilous 
journey,  an  uncertain  enterprise.  No  one 
48 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

supposed  we  could  hold  the  West.  Any 
moment  the  enemy's  fleet  might  sweep 
down  on  us,  and  our  captain,  short  of 
men,  must  have  lost  heart  writing  letters 
for  supplies,  —  imploring  them  to  send 
shipwrights,  sailors,  and  money. 

And  now  we  were  to  fight !  There  the 
white  fleet  lay  on  the  rippling  lake  over 
against  us.  Nine  vessels  were  in  our  line, 
we  of  the  "  Lawrence  "  first.  Yet  these 
schooners  and  sloops  were  manned  by  as 
sorry  a  lot  as  captain  ever  had  shuddered 
at.  But  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  were 
regulars ;  and  the  rest  were  raw  enough, 
—  woodsmen,  negroes,  and  Indians,  who 
knew  no  more  of  a  ship  than  squalling 
babes.  And,  indeed,  that  moment  Pohig, 
a  Narragansett  brave,  said  in  his  gut 
tural  they  needed  me  in  the  cock-pit.  I 
think  I  said  something  uncomplimentary 
to  that  cock-pit,  which  was  already  over 
crowded,  for  there  were  twenty-two  un 
der  doctor's  care  on  the  "  Lawrence " 

alone,  and  indeed  a  hundred  and   sixteen 
4  49 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

unfit  out  of  the  four  hundred  and  ninety 
of  the  fleet. 

I  paused  a  moment,  looking  out  again 
at  the  beauty  a  sunny  September  morning 
gathers  in  these  waters.  The  six  white 
ships  of  the  king  still  bore  on,  with  flaunt 
ing  canvas,  carrying  all  told,  as  I  was  to 
know  later,  five  hundred  and  two  souls : 
one  hundred  and  fifty  from  the  Royal 
Navy,  while  of  the  two  hundred  and  forty 
soldiers  most  were  regulars.  From  that 
fleet  I  turned  to  ours.  I  had  forgot  my 
summons  to  the  delirious  chap  below.  I 
should  have  something  besides  mere  fever 
to  deal  with  before  that  day  was  over. 
And  then  among  our  motley  crew  I  saw 
some  men  who  had  been  on  the  "  Consti 
tution."  Ah,  they  stood  straight  and  fine, 
with  just  the  right  swing.  Some  of  our 
fellows,  after  all,  were  not  so  bad. 

At  the  moment  a  blue  flag  was  unfurled 
at  the  main  royal  masthead,  declaring,  in 
white  letters,  "  Don't  give  up  the  ship." 

I  watched  the  men  curiously,  and  be- 
5° 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

fore  I  thought  joined  in  the  cheer.  I  had 
not  heard  in  my  reverie  that  the  captain 
had  been  saying  :  "  Shall  I  hoist  it  ?  "  nor 
the  answer,  "  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  "  But  now 
that  it  flew  in  the  breeze  it  declared  Cap 
tain  Lawrence's  last  words,  and  swung 
out  over  the  hastily  built  lake  brig  which 
the  Secretary  had  given  that  bravest  cap 
tain's  name.  Then  was  the  beating  to 
quarters ;  and  I  remembered  my  summons 
to  the  cock-pit. 

A  little  fellow —  once  rosy  cheeked,  but 
now  shaking  with  the  ague  —  had  asked  for 
me. 

"  Don't  tell  me,  doctor,  that  I  can't  be 
in  it." 

"  Look  here,  Fraser,"  I  said,  "  be  quiet. 
You  can't  stir,  do  you  hear  ? "  I  was 
irritable ;  but,  remembering  my  profes 
sional  manner,  I  added,  "  Oh,  we  '11 
see." 

"  The  captain  wishes  you  in  his  cabin, 
Mr.  Moran,"  some  one  interrupted.  I 
pressed  Fraser's  hand,  and  joined  the  cap- 
51 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

tain.  He  was  tying  some  papers,  and 
turned  to  face  me  with  a  smile. 

"  The  government's  papers,  Moran,"  he 
said.  "  We  '11  have  a  pretty  warm  time) 
I  fancy,  and  you  '11  be  busy." 

u  I  dare  say,  —  busy,"  said  I. 

"  I  hope  not  too  busy,  Moran.  But  you 
are  the  safest  man  to  keep  this  packet. 
Should  it  go  against  us,  —  I  have  tied  some 
shot  to  it,  —  drop  it  into  the  lake." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  said  I,  taking  the  papers. 
"  How  are  you  feeling  ? " 

"  I  don't  seem  to  be  over  that  trouble," 
he  said,  tearing  up  some  letters. 

"  You  certainly  are  not,"  said  I,  looking 
him  over  narrowly. 

"  What  luck,  when  I  need  all  my 
nerve  ! " 

"  You  will  have  it,  sir,"  said  I,  pouring 
something  from  a  vial,  for  I  had  brought 
my  case. 

As  he  drank,  he  scattered  the  bits  of 
torn  paper —  "  My  wife's  letters,"  —  which 
made  me  think  of  the  girl  in  New  York, 
52 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

whom  I  had   reason  to  believe  might  be 
thinking  of  me.   Should  lever  see  her  again? 

"  I  don't  care  to  have  them  get  my  pri 
vate  correspondence.  As  for  the  other 
papers  —  " 

u  I  '11  have  that  care." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  know  you  will,  Mr. 
Moran.  But  you  see  I  'm  nervous." 

"  I  don't  wonder." 

"  No,  it  means  so  much.  The  people 
don't  realize  that  if  we  lose  to-day  they 
will  carry  out  the  old  French  idea,  and 
Canada  will  reach  clear  to  the  gulf." 

"  And  the  United  States  will  stop  at 
Ohio  forever  after,"  I  added.  "  But  they 
have  n't  done  it." 

He  seized  my  hand  at  this.  ct  No,  they 
have  n't."  His  eyes  sparkled.  "  After  all 
we  have  been  through,  and  made  and 
floated  the  fleet,  it  makes  one  fearful  when 
the  moment  comes." 

"  Yes,  it  is  here,  sir.     Listen." 

It  was  a  bugle  call,  followed  directly  by 
"  Rule  Britannia." 

S3- 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

"  That 's  from  the  '  Detroit.'  " 

"Their  flagship." 

"  We  are  getting  near.  Hear  the 
answer  to  c  Rule  Britannia.' ': 

It  was  just  our  boatswain's  whistle,  but 
a  faint  color  crept  over  his  face ;  and  then 
seizing  my  hand,  he  went  above,  calling 
back,  "  My  work  now,  and  yours,  will  be 
gin,"  which  took  me  again  to  the  cock-pit. 
As  I  moved  about,  putting  the  last  touches 
to  the  place,  I  heard  that  grog  and  rations 
had  been  served,  because  we  doubtless 
should  not  have  the  chance  later.  "  He 
says  we  know  how  to  beat  those  fellows," 
said  one,  a  petty  officer  who  was  among 
those  from  the  "  Constitution."  "  Why, 
we  've  done  it.  We  '11  do  it  again." 

"  What  are  you  doing  now  ?  "  said  I, 
turning. 

"  I  heard  the  captain  say  to  Mr.  Tay 
lor,  4  Run  to  the  lee  of  the  islands  ; '  and 
Mr.  Taylor  says,  says  he,  'Then  you'll 
have  to  engage  to  leeward.'  1 1  don't 
care,'  says  our  captain ;  c  windward  or  lee- 
54 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

ward,  they  '11  have  to  fight  to-day.'     Eh, 
doctor,  he  's  the  captain." 

"  I  believe  he  is,  Perkins,"  said  I ;  then 
Perkins  chuckled,  hitched  his  trousers,  and 
went  above.  But  directly  I  heard  that  a 
shift  had  put  us  to  the  windward. 

And  then  the  first  gun  broke  in  on  the 
rattling  noises  of  our  deck,  arid  others 
answered. 

I  rushed  above,  and  watched  the  men  at 
their  posts,  bared  to  the  waists,  muscles 
standing  out  tensely,  faces  set  or  twitch 
ing.  A  burst  of  smoke  already  was 
blurring  that  clear  sky.  And  then  some 
thing  crashed  into  our  deck,  and  the 
splinters  flew  as  the  report  rang  loud  in 
my  ears.  I  believe  I  just  looked  about 
coolly  at  our  line,  the  schooners  and  sloops 
drawn  up,  a  half-cable's  length  of  each 
other.  Lieutenant  Yarnell  observed  me 
and  nodded. 

"  The  4  Lawrence '  is  to  have  most  of 
this     battle,"    he     said.      "  The     c  Queen 
Charlotte '  is  training  on  us." 
55 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

He  scarcely  had  spoken  before  we  heard 
a  great  crash  above,  and  our  mainmast 
tottered.  The  sound  was  followed  by  an 
other  rush  of  breaking  timbers,  and  some 
one  was  shouting  there  was  a  hole  in  our 
hull.  I  did  not  notice  now.  I  was  watch 
ing  two  groaning  fellows  who  were  being 
carried  below  ;  and  I  hastened  to  the  work 
there.  These  were  hardly  stretched  out 
before  others  were  brought.  Their  suffer 
ing  faces  stare  at  me  even  now  of  nights ; 
and  in  dreams  I  can  hear  their  cries  in  a 
deafening  din. 

And  I,  too,  was  stripped  to  the  waist, 
turning  now  and  then  to  inquire.  We 
had  drawn  to  closer  quarters,  and  were 
engaging  the  "  Detroit,"  the  "  Queen 
Charlotte,"  the  "  Lady  Prevost." 

"  I  believe  I  'm  done  for,"  said  a  groan 
ing  fellow,  and  I  saw  it  was  my  friend 
Perkins,  the  petty  officer. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  I,  turning  him  on  his 
side. 

"  I  'm  not  groaning  at  that  hole,  doc- 
56 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

tor,"  said  he,  "  but  because  the  cannon 
ading  has  made  it  fall  calm,  and  the  others 
can't  support  us.  Oh,  but  it  does  hurt." 

"  It 's  only  a  scratch,"  said  I.  "  But 
the  c  Scorpion '  and  the  '  Ariel '  are  close 
behind  us." 

"  They  alone,  and  engaging  the  c  Chip- 
pewa.'  It  looks  bad,  doctor." 

"  Oh,  c  don't  give  up  the  ship,'  "  said  I. 

"  That  we  won't,"  he  cried,  pushing 
me  aside. 

"  Come  back,  man,"  I  cried. 

"  I  'm  bandaged  enough,"  said  he,  and 
was  gone.  The  next  I  saw  of  him  was 
when  an  hour  later  I  stumbled  over  his 
body.  I  should  have  hindered  his  return 
to  his  post  ;  but  I  had  no  time  to  follow 
him,  for  others  were  being  brought  con 
stantly,  until  we  knew  not  where  to  put 
them,  much  less  to  give  them  proper  care. 
My  arms  absolutely  dripped  with  blood 
and  perspiration,  and  those  we  tended 
were  black  and  red  with  powder  and 
worse.  A  crash  in  the  china  closet  was 
57 


Tho  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

followed  by  a  howl,  and  I  remembered 
Midshipman  Forest  had  left  his  spaniel 
there. 

"  We  're  all  howling,"  I  muttered,  half 
crazy  myself. 

"  Dress  that,  doctor,"  came  a  faint  voice 
over  my  shoulder. 

"  Presently,"  I  said  ;  then  I  saw  he  was 
Midshipman  Lamb. 

"  Let  me  see,"  I  believe  I  said,  when 
there  was  another  horrid  crunching  of 
timbers,  and  Lamb  was  against  the  side, 
where  he  had  been  carried  by  a  twenty- 
four-pounder.  I  rubbed  my  eyes,  and  at 
that  moment  another  of  these  tearing 
pounders  sailed  past  my  assistant,  Usher's 
head. 

You  can  imagine  we  could  do  nothing 
in  such  a  place ;  that  we  lost  the  little  wit 
we  had,  although  I  tried  as  well  as  I 
might.  Twice  Lieutenant  Yarnell  came 
below,  pointed  to  his  arm  or  face,  and, 
when  we  had  tied  him  up,  went  back  to 
his  post. 

58 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

"  How  is  the  captain  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  A  shot  through  his  hat,  and  his  clothes 
all  torn,  but  I  don't  believe  he  's  hurt." 

"  You  're  not  fit  to  go  above." 

u  Where  can  you  stow  me  ?  "  he  said, 
rushing  away. 

Presently  I  heard  a  calm  voice,  strong 
in  the  noise.  "  I  'm  short  of  men,  doctor. 
Send  up  one  of  yours." 

I  motioned  to  Brown,  who  without  a 
word  went  above.  Just  then  I  felt  some 
thing  trickling  on  my  face,  and  looking  up 
saw  the  planking  above  had  sprung,  and  a 
red  stream  was  breaking  through. 

"  For  heaven's  sake  put  me  out  of  this," 
came  one  of  the  voices.  I  was  bending 
over  him,  when  again  Captain  Perry  sang 
out,  — 

"  Brown  is  down.      Send  another." 

It  was  not  five  minutes  before  the  same 
voice  came :  "  Another,"  while  a  spar 
crashed. 

"  Who  the   devil,  sir,  is  going  to  look 
after  these  chaps  ?  "  I  sang  out. 
59 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

"  How  many  are  you  ?  " 

"Two,  and  some  fifty  men  to  look 
after." 

"  Can  any  of  the  wounded  ?  " 

"  They  are  a  bad  lot,  sir." 

"  Come  yourself,  Mr.  Moran." 

I  turned  from  rny  patient.  I  indeed 
could  do  little  there.  The  cries  and 
groans  of  these  poor  chaps  sickened  me. 
One  of  them,  the  Narragansett  Indian, 
Pohig,  suddenly  rose,  when  he  was  pinned 
a  writhing  mass  against  the  side. 

"Go,  Mr.  Moran,"  Usher  said  in  a 
husky  whisper ;  and  I  turned  and  fled,  and 
slipped  in  the  gloom  above,  —  for  the  thick 
smoke  had  left  the  deck  not  less  dim  than 
the  mess-room.  Bodies  were  piled  every 
where  ;  gun  carriages  on  their  sides  as  if 
carelessly  tossed  ;  and  whizzing  and  burst 
ing  sounds  about  my  ears. 

Mr.  Taylor  came  slipping  and  limping 
across  the  deck. 

"  Here,  —  at  that  gun  !  " 

"  Here  !  "  said  the  captain  himself. 
60 


"  He  was  erect  in  the  boat,  still  regardless  of  the 

whizzing  balls."  Ci 


There  were  three  of  us  training  that 
gun  :  Mr.  Pierce,  the  chaplain,  the  purser, 
and  I,  the  surgeon ;  and  close  beside  it,  his 
face  staring  into  the  smoke,  lay  my  assist 
ant,  Brown. 

I  think  I  swore,  but  the  chaplain  at  this 
unclerical  work  did  not  reprove  me.  I 
remember  I  said  :  "  Curse  a  ship  that  has 
to  use  a  mess-room  above  the  water-line 
for  a  cock-pit."  I  was  thinking  of  the 
twenty-four-pounders  which  had  carried 
poor  Lamb  and  the  Indian  Pohig  into 
eternity.  And  then,  as  we  were  training 
the  gun,  a  voice  was  in  our  ears  : 

"  You  need  n't.      It 's  our  last  gun." 

Mr.  Field,  the  purser,  rose  from  his 
knees.  The  chaplain,  I  saw,  had  a  tear 
on  his  face  ;  but  then  he  was  a  minister. 
As  for  me,  I  looked  up  at  the  blue  flag. 

Captain  Perry  seemed  to  read  me. 

"  Yes,  the  ship,  but  not  the  battle. 
Yarnell,  lower  a  boat." 

"  You  will  leave  us  ?  "  said  I. 

"  For  the  l  Niagara,'  "  and  he   pointed 
61 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

to  her  looming  near  through  the  fog.     I 
understood. 

"  But  the  c  Lawrence  ? '  "  said  I. 

The  boat  had  been  lowered.  I  remem 
ber  I  heard  a  voice,  — 

"  But  the  flag,  captain  ?  " 

He  too  looked  up  there  where  his  flag 
still  waved.  The  man  who  hauled  that 
down,  threw  the  blue  flag  after  it. 

Then  I  heard  something  like  a  sob. 
Now,  I  don't  mind  a  man  yelling  with 
pain,  for  it  is  my  trade  to  hear  that ;  but  a 
man  sobbing  cuts  into  my  heart ;  and  this 
cry  came  from  Mr.  Yarnell,  one  of  the 
bravest  officers  that  ever  served.  He 
looked  queer  enough,  as  we  all  did, —  not 
more  than  twenty  left,  all  told ;  our  faces 
black  as  the  negroes',  and  tracked  with 
perspiration ;  our  bodies  smeared  with  soot 
and  blood  ;  our  clothes  torn. 

But  Captain  Perry  put  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  We  must  have  the  day,  Yarnell.    What 
is  the  '  Lawrence  '  to  that  ?  " 
62 


Then  Yarnell  straightened  up,  and 
smiled  through  his  tears  and  the  blood 
trickling  from  a  scalp  wound. 

"  I  '11  stand  by  the  '  Lawrence,'  cap 
tain." 

The  captain  gave  us  all  a  cheering  look 
as  he  leaped  over  the  side.  I  wondered 
whether  this  was  the  same  man  who  three 
hours  before  (I  have  learned  since  that  it 
was  just  two  hours  and  forty-five  minutes) 
had  talked  to  me  in  the  cabin.  And  I 
remembered  the  packet  he  had  given  me, 
which  I  had  stuffed  away  in  a  drawer  in 
that  terrible  cock-pit, — 

"  Shall  I  sink  the  papers  ?  " 

u  Yes,  if  it  comes  to  that,"  he  sang 
back ;  and  the  last  I  saw  he  was  erect  in 
the  boat,  still  regardless  of  the  whizzing 
balls,  and  his  brother  at  his  side,  and  the 
four  men  bending  to  their  oars.  His 
figure  gave  me  new  spirit,  and  I  remem 
bered  Usher  at  his  hard  duty  in  the  cock 
pit.  As  I  stumbled  to  the  passage,  Yarnell 
stopped  me. 

63 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

"  We  can't  stand  this." 

I  looked  up  at  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
still  flying,  if  the  other  flags  were  lacking. 

"  We  have  lost  half  our  colors,  and  we 
must  the  rest  ?  "  said  I,  like  a  man  in  a 
bad  dream.  The  colors  seemed  that  mo 
ment  more  to  me  than  all  those  dead  and 
wounded  and  the  wrecked  ship. 

"  They  're  battering  us  to  pieces. 
Must  n't  we  save  these  few  ?  " 

And  he  pointed  to  those  left  standing. 

"  We  must  make  the  wounded  comfort 
able,  too." 

"  But  the  colors,"  gasped  another  voice, 
when  turning  I  saw  Midshipman  Dulany 
Forest ;  and  then  I  remembered,  and  an 
swered  fiercely,  — 

u  It 's  not  the  colors  now.  We  're 
beaten,  man." 

But  I  could  not  endure  seeing  it  done, 
loudly  as  I  had  spoken  ;  and  without  lift 
ing  my  eyes  I  went  to  my  work ;  and  such 
work  as  it  was  I  do  not  care  even  to  think 
about  now.  Then  directly  the  crashing 
64 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

above  paused.  The  colors  were  down, 
that  meant ;  and  I  heard  a  low  cheer  over 
the  water  from  the  king's  ship ;  but  with 
us  only  were  the  groaning  men,  and  Mr. 
Forest's  spaniel  howled,  as  he  had  since 
the  crash  in  the  china  closet. 

As  for  me  I  did  not  dare  think,  I  say. 
I  had  enough  to  do,  Heaven  knows.  The 
sight  of  poor  shattered  Mr.  Brooks,  who 
had  been  always  my  good  friend,  took 
away  the  little  spirit  I  had  left.  But  fin 
ally  I  was  so  faint  that  again  I  stumbled 
on  deck ;  and  there  I  saw  Mr.  Yarnell 
directing  the  raising  of  our  colors.  Yes, 
that  flag  was  going  up  over  the  "  Law 
rence  "  again. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  I  asked  ;  but  I 
saw  in  a  glance. 

"  That  the  '  Niagara '  has  borne  down 
through  their  line,  and  the  fight  has 
turned." 

"  He  reached  the  l  Niagara  '  then  ?  " 

You  know  how  it  was.  The  "  Queen 
Charlotte,"  in  trying  to  bring  her  broad- 
5  65 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

side  in  play  on  the  "  Niagara,"  had  been 
left  at  the  wind's  mercy  through  a  down- 
haul  having  been  shot  away,  and  so  she 
had  fouled  the  "  Detroit."  The  "  Ni 
agara,"  backing  her  main  topsails,  had  run 
across  bow  and  stern  of  the  two  fouled 
king's  ships,  tearing  them  fore  and  aft 
with  her  starboard  broadside ;  and  keeping 
on,  she  paid  the  "  Lady  Prevost  "  the  same 
attention.  Our  "  Caledonia,"  "  Ariel," 
"  Somers,"  "  Scorpion,"  "  Tigress,"  and 
"  Porcupine  "  had  followed,  carrying  away 
the  "  Detroit's  "  masts  and  the  "  Queen 
Charlotte's  "  mizzenmast.  And  as  I  came 
on  deck,  the  "  Niagara  "  was  engaging  the 
"  Hunter." 

"  You  see  I  think  I  am  right  about  run 
ning  up  the  colors,"  said  Yarnell. 

"  That  looks  as  if  you  were,"  said  I, 
pointing  to  the  "  Hunter's  "  taffrail,  where 
an  officer  was  waving  a  white  handkerchief 
from  a  boarding  spike.  Again  he  waved 
it;  and  we  knew  we  had  won  the  Lakes. 

But  the  groans  on  our  deck  took  away 
66 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

our  cheers,  and  I  turned  to  that  work. 
Now,  you  must  know  I  had  not  been  long 
away ;  for  all  this  decisive  part  of  the 
action  was  a  matter  of  but  eight  minutes. 
They  were  precious  moments,  I  can  assure 
you,  with  all  the  arms  and  legs  and  heads 
I  had  to  bandage. 

"  He  's  coming  back,"  said  Mr.  Pierce, 
the  chaplain,  coming  to  us  at  this  dismal 
task,  for  I  had  lost  all  of  my  profes 
sional  zest. 

"  Who  ?  "  said  I,  dully. 

"  The  captain,  and  the  flags." 

"  Let  me  see  him,  the  captain  ! "  said 
the  man  I  was  tending,  —  "  back  again,  is 
he  ?  " 

"  You  can't,"  said  I.     "  Keep  still." 

"  But  I  will." 

And  he  tottered  up  despite  us,  remind 
ing  me  of  Perkins,  the  petty  officer,  who 
had  done  the  same  earlier  in  the  action, 
whose  body  lay  by  a  starboard  gun. 

"  Usher,"  said  I,  "  I  must  see  his  flag 
go  up  !  "  I  spoke  like  a  child. 
67 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

"  But  these  ?  "   he  said  reproachfully. 

"  I  '11  be  back.  They  must  give  us 
help.  We  can't  do  all  this  alone ; "  and 
I  put  my  hands  to  my  ears  to  keep  out 
their  groans. 

"  The  captain  is  back  ?  "  came  a  voice 
shrilly. 

"  Yes,  back.  We  've  got  'em,"  piped 
another. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  so  much,"  said  a 
chap  who  had  both  arms  shot  away. 

"  I  must  take  his  hand,"  said  I  to  my 
assistant,  Usher,  again  ;  "  I  '11  be  away  — 
well,  five  minutes." 

"  Go,  of  course,"  said  the  armless  man. 
"  Cheer  the  captain  for  me." 

"  Are  ye  tellin'  me,  we  've  beat  'em,  Mr. 
Moran  ?  "  asked  another,  forgetful  of  pain. 

"  Yes,  and  the  captain  is  back  on  the 
'  Lawrence,' "  said  I,  hastening  to  the 
deck ;  for  I  declare  I  wanted  to  see  that 
blue  flag  make  our  colors  complete  more 
than  I  wished  a  sight  of  that  girl  in  New 
York. 

6& 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

And  what  a  crowd  were  we,  as  we  stood 
banded  and  splinted  at  the  side ;  while  the 
decks  were  red  and  slippery,  and  the 
groans  of  the  suffering  took  the  place  of 
cheers.  For  we  greeted  him  silently,  and 
he  himself  but  said,  as  he  looked  over 
human  fragments,  cannon  dismounted, 
carriages  broken,  and  shattered  timbers : 

"  Put  up  the  blue  flag  on  the  <•  Law 
rence,'  for  she  was  given  up  but  to  win 
the  fight." 

Battered  Yarnell  took  his  captain's 
hand,  as  he  came  over  the  side,  and  we 
crowded  about  him  ;  and  our  hearts,  if  not 
our  mouths,  cheered ;  for  his  unconquer 
able  will  had  gained  that  day  what  General 
Hull  had  lost.  Yes,  he  alone  had, — this 
boyish  Master  Commandant  Oliver  Hazard 
Perry.  And  if  we  did  not  cheer  with  our 
mouths,  it  was  because  of  the  groans  of 
the  suffering. 

Shortly  the  surviving  officers  of  the 
king's  fleet  were  over  the  side,  and  looked 
wonderingly  at  the  havoc  they  had  made, 
69 


The  Colors  :of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

and  slipped  in  the  blood,  and  stumbled 
over  the  bodies,  as  they  went  to  deliver 
their  swords  to  our  captain,  who  returned 
them  with  civility,  remembering  how  nearly 
he  had  lost.  And  above  waved  the  two 
flags,  —  the  blue  with  Captain  Lawrence's 
words,  which  Captain  Perry  had  made  of 
even  greater  meaning. 

Now  I  must  tell  you  how  strangely, 
some  few  minutes  after  this,  I  remembered 
I  had  forgot  his  order  to  drop  the  packet  of 
official  papers  overboard.  I  left  my  work, 
and  hurried  to  him.  I  believe  now  I  was 
in  a  daze,  as  well  I  might  be.  He  was 
handing  a  letter  to  Midshipman  Forest. 

"  I  forgot  to  sink  that  packet  when  we 
struck  our  colors,"  I  cried. 

"  You  did,  eh  ?  "  said  he.  "  But  the 
colors  are  up ;  so  I  '11  pardon  you,  Mr. 
Moran.  You  see,  I  have  just  sent  General 
Harrison  these  words  :  '  We  have  met  the 
enemy,  and  they  are  ours,  —  two  ships,  two 
brigs,  one  schooner,  and  two  sloops.'  " 

I  turned,  without  a  word,  to  my  work 
70 


The  Colors  of  the  "  Lawrence  " 

among  the  human  wreckage  this  great  lake 
fight  had  made  ;  and  you  may  believe  I 
was  kept  busied  for  days  ;  and  Mr.  Pierce, 
the  chaplain,  too,  when  the  leaded  shrouds 
were  sent  whirring  down  into  the  depths 
of  that  lake  for  whose  control  these  men 
had  given  their  lives. 

And  such  is  war.  If  the  "  Lawrence  " 
flew  her  colors  at  the  end,  what  mattered 
it  to  those  chaps  in  the  leaded  shrouds  ? 


The  Impulsiveness  of 
Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 


73 


The  Impulsiveness  of  Monsieur 
de  la  Fayette 

An  Account  of  the  Affair  at  Barren  Hill, 
from  the  Middleton  Memoirs 


MONSIEUR  DE  LA  FAYETTE 
had  time  to  look  for  lodgings  which 
appeared  most  desirable  either  in  the  stone 
church,  or  in  the  house  of  the  Quaker 
Peters.  Peters  had  observed  the  tall,  red- 
haired  boy,  who  was  the  French  marquis, 
with  some  attention.  He  acknowledged 
that  his  hospitality  was  not  given  willingly, 
for  he  was  strictly  "  king's  man,"  with 
small  enough  sympathy  for  the  rebels  or 
for  "  French  gentlemen  "  who  chose  to 
bother  with  other  people's  affairs. 

In  fact,  foreigners  were  not  altogether 
popular,     even    with     us.       I     remember 
75 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

how   Generals    Greene  and   Sullivan  both 
had  threatened  to  resign   because  of  Con- 

O 

gress's  employment  of  foreign  adventurers, 
and  Washington  himself  had  been  criti 
cised  for  his  affection  for  the  French  strip 
ling.  Had  not  the  "  little "  tall  fellow 
made  a  failure  of  the  Canadian  expedition  ? 
Yet  he  was  a  general  now,  admitted  to  all 
of  the  chiefs  councils,  intrusted  with  the 
perilous  commissions  to  watch  the  British 
and  to  stop  the  ravages  along  the  Dela 
ware.  "  You  do  not  know  the  stuff  in 
that  French  boy,"  the  general  had  said  to 
the  critics.  "  Remember  Gloucester  and 
Brandywine ;  remember  that  Monsieur  de 
Vergennes's  attitude  has  been,  in  some 
measure,  brought  about  because  a  great 
French  nobleman  is  interested  with  us." 
Monsieur  de  Vergennes's,  that  is  to 
say,  Louis  XVI. 's  attitude,  was  known 
among  us  May  2,  1779.  Possibly  the 
Quaker  Peters  hated  the  youthful  French 
gentleman  the  more  on  that  account. 
Good  English  loyalists  had  small  sympathy 
76 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

for  things  French,  and  now,  to  add  to  all 
the  ancient  reasons  for  hatred  —  descend 
ing  from  the  time  when  France  was  prac 
tically  Harry  of  England's  fief — was  this 
acknowledgment  of  the  colonies'  rebellion. 
Oh,  this  French  impertinence  ! 

Mr.  Peters  fidgeted  in  his  doorway, 
watching  the  arrangement  of  the  twenty- 
one  hundred  men  this  boyish  French  person 
commanded. 

The  marquis,  in  fact,  had  made  the 
Peters  farm  on  the  hill-top  his  position, 
exactly  eleven  miles  from  the  enemy's  at 
Philadelphia,  and  nearly  the  same  distance 
from  ours  at  Valley  Forge.  On  his  right 
was  the  Schuylkill ;  a  rocky  ledge,  with 
three  pieces  of  cannon,  before ;  a  wood 
and  some  stone  walls  and  houses,  making 
admirable  breastworks,  at  the  left,  where 
he  had  put  the  two  remaining  cannon. 
Three  hundred  yards  down  the  slope,  to 
the  front,  was  Captain  McLane,  with 
fifty  Indians  and  six  hundred  pickets. 

The  marquis  regarded  these  things  com- 
77 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

placently  with  General  Poor,  shading  his 
eyes  with  his  hands  and  looking  out  over 
the  green  distances  to  Philadelphia.  Boy 
as  he  was  —  scarcely  twenty  —  he  felt 
some  pride  in  his  sense  in  taking  the 
position.  Of  course,  General  Poor  had 
agreed  with  him  in  all  the  details,  but  he 
had  advanced  the  ideas.  They  were  ex 
cellently  good  ones,  too,  he  thought.  The 
"  Swedes'  Ford "  was  down  that  wooded 
road,  while  behind  was  another  not-much- 
used  means  of  retreat. 

"  Well  taken,  general,  I  declare  ! " 
General  Poor  had  said,  and  the  two  had 
separated,  La  Fayette  walking  toward 
Peters,  who  still  stood  regarding  the  scene 
with  curious  interest.  The  dwelling  was 
close  by  the  little  stone  church. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,  believe  me,  to  have  to 
intrude  at  your  table,"  said  Monsieur  de  la 
Fayette,  coming  up.  As  a  matter  of  pride, 
he  wished  to  speak  good  English,  and  by 
this  time  he  could  use  the  tongue  well ; 
but  a  slight  accent  lingered. 
78 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

"  I  might  say  that  I  am  only  too  glad 
to  entertain  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette," 
Peters  said ;  "  but  frankly,  as  a  British 
subject,  I  should  not  be  speaking  the 
strict  truth." 

"  Ah,  I  like  your  directness,"  said  mon 
sieur,  gayly.  "  We  all  have  a  right  to  our 
opinions." 

"  Yes,  I  agree  with  thee,  general,  most 
completely,  and,  finding  thee  most  fair- 
minded,  I  am  emboldened  to  ask  of  thee 
a  favor." 

"A  favor,  Mr.  Peters?"  asked  mon 
sieur,  smiling,  and  looking  the  man  over 
narrowly.  He  was  a  little  man,  with 
dark,  earnest  eyes,  a  thin,  wrinkled  face, 
to  which  his  garb  lent  a  certain  air  of 
peacefulness,  such  as  monks  and  Quakers 
sometimes  gain,  and  a  suggestiveness  of 
cleanly  living  and  thinking.  "  I  will  grant 
it  readily  if  I  can." 

"  My  daughter  wishes  to  go  through  the 
lines,"   the   man   said,   rubbing   his   hands 
together  and  looking  away. 
79 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

"  The  very  pretty  girl  I  saw  ?  "  asked 
the  marquis.  He  had  not  forgotten  to 
observe  a  neat  face  and  figure. 

"  A  good  girl,  sir,"  Peters  said.  "  I  am 
alone  here,  and  do  not  care  to  have  her 
exposed  to  the  danger." 

"  But  the  danger  of  the  ride  ?  "  asked 
Monsieur  de  la  Fayette. 

"  I  shall  serid  my  black  servant  with 
her." 

"  And  why,  sir,  should  I  permit  her  to 
go  into  Philadelphia  ?  Are  you  not  a 
loyalist  ?  You  acknowledge  it.  Your 
daughter  will  explain  the  matter  to  Sir 
Henry,  I  fear." 

"  Fear  not,  friend  —  not  at  all.  She 
will  not." 

And  at  the  moment  La  Fayette  thought 
he  heard  the  shutter  of  the  window  before 
which  they  stood  rattle.  He  remarked  it 
to  his  unwilling  host  rather  suspiciously, 
and  then  he  looked  the  man  over  again. 
It  was  so  easy  to  grant  the  favor.  The 
face  was  honest  enough.  Ah,  Monsieur 
80 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

de  la  Fayette  was  yet  young  in  experience ! 
In  a  long,  eventful  life  he  was  to  know 
better.  Here,  in  America,  he  was  now 
only  beginning  his  experience.  But  I  like 
to  think  of  him  as  he  stood  there  at  the 
door  of  the  house  on  the  hill.  I  like  to 
think  of  him  as  impulsively  generous,  as 
he  had  been  in  all  this  affair.  It  pleased 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  at  a  later  date  to 
call  him  a  "  ninny."  By  a  "  ninny  "  the 
emperor  may  have  meant  a  man  clever 
only  in  simple  honesty.  I  never  myself 
held  Monsieur  de  la  Fayette  among  the 
most  clever  men,  but  he  always  was  one 
you  could  depend  on  exactly.  Because  he 
never  was  false  he  suffered  a  deal.  And 
so,  to  return  to  Peters's  request  for  per 
mission  to  send  his  daughter  into  Philadel 
phia,  he  foolishly  granted  it.  Some  men 
are  lovable  because  they  are  foolish,  and 
God,  after  all,  esteems  it  a  finer  quality 
than  cunning,  although  it  may  act  against 
worldly  success. 

After  receiving  the  man's  thanks  Mon- 
6  81 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

sieur  de  la  Fayette  paused  to  look  with 
satisfaction  at  his  position,  all  its  advan 
tages  displayed  by  the  country  that  lay 
stretched  out  in  the  late  afternoon  light 
as  if  't  were  a  map. 

"  And  how,  friend,  didst  thou  first  think 
of  coming  among  us  ?  "  asked  Peters. 

The  young  man  turned  to  him  smilingly. 

"  Ah,  I  remember,  now  that  you  ask, 
a  dinner  in  Metz,  when  His  Highness 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester  was  the  guest  of 
my  commandant,  the  Comte  de  Broglie  j 
your  English  prince  told  a  story  of  the 
events  here  that  fired  my  imagination." 

"  And  yet  thou  hadst  much  property  — 
and  a  wife  ?  —  how  imprudent  !  " 

"Ah,  Anastasia ! "  said  monsieur,  his 
face  growing  earnest.  "  But,  Mr.  Peters, 
you  know  there  is  more  in  this  world  than 
one's  money,  or  pleasure,  or  —  " 

"  Yes,  thou  art  right,  friend  —  duty." 

"  Yes,  duty.  But  that  depends,  I  sup 
pose,  on  how  one  interprets  it." 

u  Exactly,"  said  Peters.     "  Exactly." 
82 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

"  I  suppose  my  friend,  Sir  Henry  Clin 
ton  there,  is  quite  as  near  right  as  I, 
although  we  fight  on  different  sides  of  the 
question."  And  he  waved  his  hand  toward 
the  horizon  where  Philadelphia  lay.  "  I 
once  met  him  in  London  at  a  ball.  But 
if  your  daughter,  Mistress  Prudence,  goes 
to-night,  I  must  go  in  to  write  the  pass. 
It 's  a  dangerous  ride  in  these  unsettled 
times.  Have  you  considered  ?  " 

"  I  prefer  to  have  her  there,  friend," 
Peters  answered,  averting  his  face,  while 
Monsieur  de  la  Fayette  entered  the  house 
to  the  room  that  had  been  assigned  him. 

No  sooner  had  the  door  closed  than  the 
shutter  which  he  had  observed  move  dur 
ing  his  conversation  with  Peters  swung 
open,  and  a  blue-eyed,  blond-haired  face 
showed  in  the  opening. 

"  Father,  I  have  heard  every  word." 

"  Get  thee  ready,  Prudence,  now,  in  a 
hurry." 

"  And  am  I  —  " 

"  Thou  art  to  go  at  once  to  Sir  William 
83 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

Howe  and  tell  him  how  our  French  gentle 
man  is  encamped." 

"  1  cannot." 

"  Cannot  ?  " 

"  He  trusts  us."  Tears  were  in  the 
blue  eyes,  the  lips  trembled. 

"  Thou  must  go,  because  thou  art  safer 
there.  Thou  must  get  word  to  Sir  Wil 
liam,  because  our  first  duty  is  to  the  king. 
Thou  must." 

Still  Prudence  hesitated ;  still  the  man 
reasoned,  acknowledging  that  he  indeed 
had  taken  advantage  of  Monsieur  de  la 
Fayette's  youthful  impulsiveness,  and  jus 
tifying  himself  because  in  war  it  is  even 
godly  to  use  unfair  means.  How  does  the 
pretence  of  godliness  cloak  many  a  sel 
fish  purpose !  Ah,  but  is  it  not  ever  a 
perplexing  matter  to  arrive  at  the  exact 
right  ? 

The  man  had  been  accustomed  always 
to  control  the  girl.  His  was  the  stronger 
will. 

Monsieur  de  la  Fayette  standing  at  the 
84 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

door  on  the  hill  saw  the  pretty  Quaker 
maiden  riding  down  the  slope  with  his  per 
mit.  He  wondered  if  he  had  been  impru 
dent.  He  took  it,  indeed,  in  good  part 
when  General  Poor  rated  him  soundly  for 
the  imprudence  of  that  pass. 

And  then  slowly  the  May  night  settled 
over  lowland  and  hill. 

In  Philadelphia  the  Mischianza  was  be 
ing  celebrated  in  honor  of  Sir  William 
Howe,  who  just  had  been  superseded  by 
Sir  Henry  Clinton. 

"  Mischianza  "  was  a  clever  term  ar 
rived  at  by  that  witty  young  gentleman, 
Captain  Andre,  who  could  write  a  sonnet, 
a  play,  lead  a  minuet,  and  not  hesitate  at 
daring  service. 


II 


Among  the  handsomest  young  women  of 
this  period  in  Philadelphia  was  Miss  Doro 
thy    Mortimer.      I    believe    Mr.    Stuart's 
picture  of  her  is    excellent.     It    shows  a 
85 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

tall,  dark-haired,  dark-eyed  young  woman, 
with  an  animated  expression  and  a  com 
plexion  of  clear  pallor,  and  exquisitely 
gowned  in  the  mode  the  least  provincial 
of  Philadelphia  during  the  Revolutionary 
period.  The  Mortimers  were  strong  loy 
alists,  and  were  among  those  Maryland 
families  who  left  the  United  States  when 
the  affair  at  Yorktown  had  confiscated  the 
estates  of  many  of  the  losing  opinion. 
Miss  Mortimer's  inclinations  were  sup 
posed  to  be  loyal.  Yet,  in  that  period 
when  families  were  divided,  it  would  not 
have  been  surprising  if  she  had  discovered 
sympathies  for  some  of  the  other  political 
complexion.  She,  indeed,  appeared  to 
have  many  sympathies,  as  a  young  dandy, 
who  took  her  too  much  from  her  actions, 
found  out  to  his  cost. 

When  the  "  Mischianza  "  was  ending  in 

O 

the  great  ball  at  the  Wharton's,  she  shared 
much  of  the  ardent  attention  of  those  fine 
young  officers  of  Howe's,  who  were  not 
long  from  London  seasons.  In  the  mock 
86 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

tournament  Lord  Cathcart's  first  aide  had 
worn  her  colors,  and  it  was  this  young 
gentleman  who  let  drop  the  information, 
as  they  stood  in  one  corner,  that  a  pretty 
Quakeress  below  had  just  brought  Sir 
William  news  that  the  little  French  gen 
tleman  was  encamped  on  Barren  Hill,  not 
eleven  miles  away. 

"  Sir  William  will  have  the  marquis  for 
dinner  day  after  to-morrow,"  Lieutenant 
Fielding  repeated. 

"  And  this  girl  brought  the  news  ? " 
Miss  Mortimer  asked  curiously. 

"  She  rode  over  from  her  father's  farm 
with  a  black  servant,  I  'm  told.  She  was 
brought  here  not  a  half-hour  ago  by  her 
uncle,  who  thought  she  could  the  better 
describe  the  marquis's  position." 

"I  wish  —  I  wish  I  could  see  her  — 
just  to  see  what  a  girl  who  would  dare  to 
do  such  a  thing  can  be  like,"  said  Miss 
Mortimer. 

The  minuet  went  on  in  the  next  room. 
Everybody  was  joyous  with  the  wine  of 
87 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

the  dinner  and  the  spirit  of  festivity. 
What  could  have  been  finer  than  that 
occasion  ?  —  the  festival  of  the  day  and 
earlier  evening,  the  great  dining-hall  re 
splendent  with  plate  and  Oriental  fantasies, 
where  the  arrangement  of  mirrors  made 
the  scene  more  dazzling  by  the  beauty  of 
the  women,  the  splendor  of  the  men ! 
And  now  the  dancing  was  at  its  height. 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Mortimer  again,  "  I 
would  just  like  to  see  a  girl  who  would  do 
that." 

Of  course  she  could  see  her,  Lieuten 
ant  Fielding  declared.  He  thought,  in 
deed,  he  would  have  given  his  right  arm 
for  her  smile  of  approval. 

"  Oh,  if  you  could  !  " 

He  could,  and  did.  Sir  William  him 
self  was  not  averse  to  doing  so  simple  a 
favor  for  a  charming  young  lady.  This 
was  his  high  compliment,  this  "  Mis- 
chianza ;  "  he  only  could  be  gracious  to 
everybody  —  and  when  the  body  chanced 
to  be  the  beautiful  Miss  Mortimer? 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

"  Gad,  I  'm  delighted  at  the  chance  !  " 

The  Quakeress,  her  servant,  and  her 
uncle  were  in  the  room  below.  "  A 
pretty,  tired-faced  little  blond  thing," 
Miss  Mortimer  decided.  Sir  William  and 
Lieutenant  Fielding  stood  in  the  doorway. 

u  I  was  so  curious,"  said  the  beautiful 
Miss  Mortimer,  "  to  see  you  who  dared  to 
bring  the  news." 

"  I  have  told  Sir  William  as  well  as  I 
could,"  said  Prudence,  wondering  at  this 
beautiful  lady,  who  seemed  after  the  ride 
over  the  rough  roads  a  vision  out  of  Para 
dise.  Miss  Mortimer  smiled  graciously, 
glancing  then  at  Sir  William. 

"  I  would  wish  you  might  leave  Miss 
Peters  with  me  just  a  moment.  I  want  to 
talk  with  her  privately." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Sir  William,  rather 
wondering  at  what  Miss  Mortimer  wished  ; 
still,  he  was  in  the  spirit  of  accommodating 
geniality.  The  relative  asked  if  Miss 
Mortimer  wanted  him  and  the  servant  to 
leave,  too.  "  Why,  if  you  don't  mind," 
89 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

Miss  Mortimer  said.     The  little  Quaker 
ess  looked  her  perplexity. 

When  the  door  was  shut  and  they  were 
alone,  save  for  the  crashing  music  of  the 
military  bands,  Miss  Mortimer's  smile 
passed. 

"  How  could  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

Prudence  began  to  weep. 

"  My  father  made  me." 

"  Little  fool,  had  you  no  spirit  of  your 
own  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  of  him." 

"  Yes,  I  see." 

Prudence  fidgeted.  The  cool,  surpris 
ing  contempt  in  the  other's  words  and  eyes 
seemed  but  to  show  her  own  self-deprecia 
tion,  her  detestation  of  the  deed.  She 
could  not  restrain  the  sobs.  Miss  Morti 
mer  went  to  the  door. 

"  Sir  William,"  she  said,  throwing  it  open, 
"  we  have  ended  our  little  conversation." 

Sir  William  entered,  wonderingly.  The 
little  Quakeress  was  sobbing  as  if  her 
heart  would  break. 

90 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

«  Oh  ?  "   he  began. 

"  She  is  tired  out,  poor  child,"  said  Miss 
Mortimer,  calmly. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Fielding,  I  'm  ready  to  go 
back  to  the  dance." 

"  Too  bad  the  little  girl  is  crying,"  said 
Fielding,  when  they  were  outside. 

"  Too  bad,"  he  added,  "  after  all  she 
has  done.  Through  that  news  Sir  Wil 
liam  expects  to  catch  the  little  marquis 
like  a  rat  in  a  trap." 

"  Yes,  exactly  like  a  rat  in  a  trap,"  said 
Miss  Mortimer,  laughing.  "  But  don't 
you  think  women  queer  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  Miss  Mortimer !  I  never 
thought  about  it.  Who  were  you  think 
ing  of  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  myself." 

"  Oh,  I  say,  if  to  be  adorable  is  to  be 
queer  —  "  he  began. 

But  at  the  moment  Lord  Cathcart 
claimed  her. 

Two  hours  later  she  sat,  in  her  ball 
gown  still,  writing  at  a  little  desk.  The 
91 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

dawn  lit  the  room  so  that  she  could  follow 
the  pen. 

DEAR  JIM  [it  ran],  —  A  weak  little  Quaker 
thing  has  just  ridden  in  and  told  the  whole  secret 
of  the  position.  Sir  Henry  Erskine  and  General 
Grant  are  already  on  the  road  to  cut  off  your 
rear  and  to  occupy  the  "  Swedes'  Ford."  Sir 
Henry  himself  goes  with  four  thousand  more  by 
the  Germantown  road.  Sir  William  has  boasted 
he  will  have  the  marquis  to  dinner  to-morrow 
night,  and  that  he  will  ship  with  him  to  London. 
Look  out  !  DOROTHY. 

This  was  all.  She  arose  and  looked  out 
of  the  window  over  the  lawn.  The  May 
dawn  left  her  older,  faded  —  the  beautiful 
Miss  Mortimer  ! 

"  Is  it  worse  for  her  —  or  me  ?  " 

She  paused,  her  hands  crossed  behind 
her. 

"But—" 

Would  they  be  caught  by  Sir  William 
like  rats  in  a  trap  ? 


92 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

III 

Monsieur  de  la  Fayette  had  been  busy 
all  that  day  strengthening  his  position  and 
rearranging  his  lines  and  his  scouts.  Up 
at  dawn  as  he  had  been,  he  now  felt 
fagged,  and  so  had  thrown  himself  down 
on  his  bed  at  Quaker  Peters's,  when  sud 
denly  his  door  was  thrown  open  without 
warning  by  Captain  Jim  Trelawney,  of 
Poor's. 

"  General !  "  cried  Trelawney,  breath 
ing  hard. 

u  Le  diable  !  "  said  the  general,  raising 
his  head  from  the  bed  and  rubbing  his 
eyes. 

"  Your  pass  to  the  Quakeress  has  be 
trayed  us  !  " 

"  Betrayed  us  !  "  cried  the  marquis  in 
his  turn,  now  on  his  feet. 

For  answer  Trelawney  led  him  to  the 
window. 

"  Do  you  see  the  scarlet  moving 
yonder  ?  " 

93 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

"  The  dragoons  we  expect,"  said  La 
Fayette,  peering  out. 

"  So  I  thought  until  I  had  a  letter." 

"A  letter?" 

"  A  letter  brought  by  a  family  servant 
of  my  cousin  in  Philadelphia  telling  us 
that  the  Quakeress  you  passed  has  be 
trayed  us." 

"  Impossible  !  "  cried  the  marquis,  and 
then  he  paused :  "  I  've  had,  I  think, 
Captain  Trelawney,  a  lesson  in  human 
nature." 

At  the  moment  there  was  a  step  in 
the  hall.  Monsieur  de  la  Fayette  rushed 
out,  dragging  in  his  host. 

"  Villain !  you  sent  word  by  your 
daughter  to  the  British  !  " 

"  I  did,"  said  the  man,  calmly. 

"  You  lied  to  me  !  " 

"  I  lied." 

"  And  why  ?  " 

11  Because,  friend,  I  am  a  British  sub 
ject,  as  thou  art  a  French  one." 

"  Peste  !  "  cried  La  Fayette.  "  You 
94 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

made  me  play  the  fool !  Arrest  him, 
captain ! "  he  ordered  Trelawney,  and 
then  was  outside  before  the  church,  where 
he  met  General  Poor  and  Captain  Mc- 
Lane  running  toward  him.  Recollecting 
himself,  his  folly,  his  lack  of  self-control, 
he  began  to  smile  like  a  courtier. 

"  We  are  surrounded  !  " 

"  I  know  it." 

"  They  have  occupied  '  Swedes'  Ford.'  " 

A  thousand  devils !  had  they  ?  But 
again,  — 

"  I  know." 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  Wait ;   I  will  tell  you." 

But  could  he  ?  He  must.  He  could 
not  endure  this  after  the  dismal  Canadian 
failure.  But  he  must  smile.  Suddenly, 
as  will  sometimes  happen  in  moments  of 
great  perplexity,  a  clarity  followed. 

"Throw  forward  false  heads  of  col 
umns,  as  if  we  were  going  to  give 
battle." 

u  There  are  nine  thousand  of  them  !  " 
95 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

"  False  heads,  I  ordered  !  —  as  feints. 
We  are  to  withdraw." 

"  But  the  '  Swedes'  Ford '  is  already 
occupied." 

"I  know  it,"  said  the  marquis;  "I 
know  it.  I  propose  to  make  only  a  pre 
tence  of  giving  battle  while  we  withdraw 
the  men  by  Matson's  Ford." 

Matson's  Ford,  indeed,  remained  ;  they 
recollected  that,  regaining  their  respect 
for  their  commander. 

The  men  were  withdrawn,  Poor's  first, 
while  the  enemy  waited,  deceived  by  the 
false  heads  of  the  columns.  As  these  false 
heads  began  to  withdraw,  the  front  lines 
of  the  British  pushed  in  on  them.  Just 
then  Captain  McLane's  Indians  sprang 
out  from  their  ambush,  whooping  and  so 
frightening  some  of  the  chasseurs,  who 
thought  they  were  devils,  that  they  never 
stopped  running  until  they  reached  Phila 
delphia.  The  false  heads  became  tails. 
They  were  running  before  the  British, 
who  gave  them  a  brisk  volley.  But  the 
96 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

little  army  was  now  mostly  across  the 
river,  drawing  in  line  on  the  hill  there. 
The  British  columns,  coming  together  on 
the  abandoned  Barren  Hill,  met  but  each 
other. 

That  little  French  fellow  had  escaped. 

Monsieur  de  la  Fayette,  in  fact,  had  no 
longer  to  force  a  smile. 

He  had  made  a  fairly  good  retreat. 
Before  overwhelming  numbers  he  had  lost 
no  more  than  eleven.  He  laughed  to 
himself  as  he  stood  on  the  hill  in  the  new 
position. 

Calling  his  aide,  Captain  Trelawney,  he 
asked :  — 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  Prettily  done,  general  !  " 

"  Mercl !  merci !  Yet,  my  dear  cap 
tain,  that  letter  of  your  cousin's  came 
just  in  time.  It  was  considerate  of 
him  —  " 

"  Of  her,"  interrupted  the  captain. 

"  A  woman  !  "  ejaculated  Monsieur  de 
la  Fayette. 

7  97 


The  Impulsiveness  of 

"  A  very  charming  woman,  general," 
said  the  captain. 

"  Ah,  I  'm  quite  ready  to  believe  that," 
said  the  marquis.  "  But,  really,  the  situa 
tion  is  astounding.  We  are  betrayed  by 
one  woman  and  saved  by  another  !  "  But, 
as  a  Gaul,  he  soon  began  to  hold  this  as 
but  one  more  experience  among  many. 

Miss  Mortimer  had  a  visitor  that  eve 
ning  in  the  person  of  Lieutenant  Fielding. 

"  And  did  they  catch  the  marquis  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  I  believe  not.  The  fact  is, 
he  got  away  very,  very  cunningly.  He 's 
rather  more  of  a  chap  than  we  thought." 

"  Oh,  is  he  ?  "  said  Miss  Mortimer, 
smiling.  "  And  how  about  some  women, 
pray  ?  " 

"  Some  are  false.  I  have  Shakespeare's 
authority." 

"  Ah,  yes,  some,  Mr.  Fielding.  But 
could  anything  have  been  more  amusing 
than  the  dance  last  night  ?  " 

She  looked  flushed  and  very  good-natured, 
98 


Monsieur  de  la  Fayette 

and  Lieutenant  Fielding  wondered  a  bit  at 
the  reason.  Women  always  furnished  the 
lieutenant  a  perplexity,  in  which  he  cer 
tainly  delighted,  or  else  he  never  would 
have  indulged  in  so  many  experiments. 


99 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 


IOI 


The  Extreme    Edge  of   Hazard 

A  soldier's  a  man  ; 
A  life  's  but  a  span  — 

Othello. 

His  end  was  so  glorious,  that  I  protest  not 
even  his  mother  or  his  mistress  ought  to  have  de 
plored  it,  or  at  any  rate  wished  him  alive  again. 
I  know  it  is  a  hero  we  speak  of  5  and  yet  I  vow  I 
scarce  know  whether  in  the  last  act  of  his  life  I 
admire  the  result  of  genius,  invention,  and  daring, 
or  the  boldness  of  a  gambler  winning  surprising 
odds.  — THACKERAY,  in  The  Virginians. 

AT  QUEBEC,  iyth  October,  1759. 

SO  long  it  is,  my  dear  Will,  since   we 
have  had  much  time  for  penmanship, 
that  now  I  am  not  quite  sure  how  to  hold 
a  quill.     This  is  an  old  sputtering  point  at 
the  best ;  and,  between  that  and  an  arm 
just  recovering  from  a  musket  wound,  I 
think  you  will  have  a  passably  hard  time 
103 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

in  deciphering  what  I  am  now  putting  to 
paper  in  this  wretched,  dismantled  town. 
I  look  out  over  the  wintry  plain  and  the 
winding  river  bank  where  our  batteries 
were.  Now  men  and  batteries  and  battal 
ions  have  sailed,  all,  and  we  are  left  alone 
and  dismal  —  a  set  of  ragged  heroes  —  in 
the  fortress  for  which  we  fought  so  long 
and  despairingly.  Ah,  Will,  I  'm  sick  at 
heart  !  You  in  Surrey  may  be  happy,  or 
in  London  at  a  coffee-house,  or  at  a  rout 
near  a  powdered  face  (I  swear  you  are 
very  near  it,  if  it  be  pretty);  but  here's 
only  the  sorry  desolation  of  war,  and  dis 
mal  folk,  and  sour-faced  infantrymen,  and 
nothing  to  do  in  particular.  Some,  of 
course,  amuse  themselves  in  the  garrison 
with  play — there  are  men  who  would 
gamble  in  heaven  or  —  the  other  place ; 
but  I  detest  cards  almost  as  much  as  poor 
Jim  Wolfe,  who  swore  that  the  one  game 
he  could  abide  was  piquet,  because  his 
mother  played  it.  (I  believe  the  only  time 
he  ever  played  was  with  that  good  woman, 
104 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

whom  he  adored  in  the  same  degree  that 
he  disliked  cards.)  Dear  Jim  Wolfe,  Will, 
whom  we  used  to  love  and  quarrel  with  as 
boys ;  whom  we  knew  so  well ;  who  had 
so  frail  a  body  and  so  mighty  a  spirit ;  who 
could  madden  you  with  his  irritability,  and 
again  charm  you  with  the  sweetness  of  his 
changing  temper ;  who  would  not  sur 
render  to  adverse  circumstance  ! 

At  the  last,  when  all  were  croaking,  Ad 
miral  Saunders  said  that  he  must  put  down 
the  river,  for  winter  was  coming  on ;  and 
the  council  declared,  with  long-drawn,  de 
precatory  faces,  for  abandoning  the  siege. 

Then  poor  Jim,  our  great  Jim,  General 
Jim,  Will,  thrust  his  hands  in  his  belt,  and 
walked  up  and  down  the  room,  his  face 
pale,  his  eyes  sunk  (for  he  was  off  a  sick 
bed,  and  God  knows  how  he  could  be 
there  at  all).  "  Gentlemen,  we  've  had 
bad  luck  enough.  I  '11  say  nothing  of 
Montmorency,  and  I  have  assured  Admiral 
Saunders  there  that  I  was  in  the  wrong  — 
not  he.  But,  God  helping  us,  I  say  we 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

must  be,  we  will  be  on  that  height !  Oh, 
I  mean  it !  "  said  he,  with  a  kind  of  quaver 
in  his  voice.  "  At  least  we  '11  have  a  last 
shy  at  the  Canadas." 

"  And  if  that  be  only  a  shy  ?  "  asked 
one. 

"  Barring  the  few  we  shall  leave  on  the 
Isle-aux-Coudres,  all  will  sail  down  the 
river,"  said  the  general.  He  had  stopped 
his  saunter  then,  his  fingers  still  in  his  belt, 
and  they  thought  him  trembling  a  little ; 
till  suddenly  he  turned  about  —  this  dear, 
ugly,  sickly  Jim,  that  we  used  to  know 
rather  differently  (though  always  ugly)  — 
and  stalked  out  of  the  room.  "  How  does 
he  keep  up  ?  "  murmured  one.  "  How  do 
we  all  keep  up  ?  "  said  Saunders,  looking 
out  of  the  window,  where  then  a  shell,  off 
the  Beauport  shore,  sailed  with  a  long  tail 
of  light  across  the  sky.  Jack  Jervis  told 
me  this  afterward,  whispering,  "  That  man 
makes  me  sick  !  " 

And  we  went  off  together  to  our  duty, 
for  the  council  was  over  for  the  day. 
1 06 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

That  day  !  How  long  it  seems  gone  ! 
Heaven  knows  when  you  may  get  this 
letter.  Our  mail  service  is  not  of  the  best. 
But  the  Canadas  are  England's  through 
Mr.  Pitt's  strategy.  Not  the  least  of  the 
great  man's  intuitions  was  choosing  our 
Jim  for  general. 

The  particulars  of  the  next  days  you 
know  well,  Will,  by  this  time  :  how  Mont- 
morency  was  abandoned ;  how  Montcalm 
and  Monsieur  Vaudreuil  were  put  in  some 
perplexity  by  our  feints.  We  were  pre 
paring  for  departure,  and  the  last  attack ; 
though  I,  no  more  than  any  of  us,  knew 
what  that  was  to  be.  The  going  up  and 
down  the  river  with  the  ebb  and  flow,  the 
apparent  descents  on  Bougainville's  forces, 
—  these  movements  perplexed  our  sailors 
and  soldiers  as  much  as  they  apparently 
mystified  those  Frenchmen,  with  their 
painted  savages  and  voyageurs  des  bois.  I 
was  working  hard  then.  You  would  not 
have  known  me,  Will.  One  had  little 
time  for  sleep.  As  they  say  the  Marquis 
107 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

de  Montcalm  said  of  himself,  we  were 
always  "  in  our  boots."  Again  the  gen 
eral  was  everywhere,  observing,  taking 
account  of  all  that  was  done.  But  more 
was  to  be  done,  and  what  that  was  we 
whispered  and  talked  over,  Colonel  Burton 
and  I,  at  Point  Levi. 

The  twelfth,  I  think,  Colonel  Burton 
himself  came  to  me,  as  I  sat  over  some 
hard  bread  and  a  mug  of  the  poorest  beer. 
(Its  taste  was  delicious,  Will.)  "  To-mor 
row  is  the  day,  Sir  Charles,"  said  he,  shak 
ing  his  great-coat,  for  it  was  raining. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  I,  on  my  feet. 

"  To-night  for  you,  my  lad.  A  boat  is 
waiting  off  shore  to  take  you  to  the  '  Por 
cupine.'  ' 

"  From  the  general  ?  " 

"  From  the  general,  Sir  Charles.  You 
are  relieved  here.  I  am  to  march  down 
the  south  shore  to  a  point  opposite  Anse- 
de-Foulon." 

"  The  general  is  with  Captain  Jervis, 
then  ? " 

1 08 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

"  On  the  4  Porcupine,'  "  said  the  colonel. 
"  Good-night,  Sir  Charles." 

He  paused,  rather  brusquely,  I  thought. 

"  We  have  said  c  good-by  '  several  times 
in  the  last  three  months." 

"  But  there  has  always  been  a  l  good- 
morning  '  for  us,"  said  I. 

"  Humph,  we  are  wicked,  perhaps.  Sev 
eral  better  fellows  than  you  or  I  never  said 
the  t  good-morning,' "  answered  Burton, 
shaking  his  coat  again. 

And  I  was  in  the  "  Porcupine's  "  boat, 
the  oars  rising  and  falling  in  the  black 
water,  the  night  now  and  then  broken  by 
the  artillery.  Above  on  the  heights  the 
quiet  was  singular.  'T  was  from  below 
that  suddenly  a  flashing  shell  might  burst 
over  the  river. 

"  There  're  twenty-three  offered,"  I 
heard  a  petty  officer  forward  say. 

"  For  what  ?  "  said  I,  turning. 

"  To  lead  in  the  enterprise,  sir." 

"  The  enterprise  !  "  I  muttered. 

"  It 's  them  that  need  n't  pray,  and  are 
109 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

not  afraid  of  hell,  sir,"  said  the  man. 
"  Twenty-four  are  wanted.  Hark  ye, 
what 's  that  ?  " 

But  I  had  no  need  of  listening.  Our 
ears  were  deafened  with  the  steady  roll  of 
guns  far  down  the  stream. 

"  On  the  Beauport  shore,"  said  the  men. 

Did  you  ever  see  the  blackness  of  a 
rainy,  dismal  night  so  lit,  Will  ?  Ah,  you 
never  did. 

"  Admiral  Saunders  is  stirring  up  the 
Moosirs,  sir,"  said  my  acquaintance  in 
the  bow. 

But,  as  it  proved,  neither  Captain  Jervis 
nor  the  general  was  on  the  "  Porcupine," 
where  word  had  been  left  for  us  to  proceed 
to  Admiral  Holmes's  ship.  It  took  a  good 
bit  of  rowing  before  we  came  within  reach 
of  the  "  Sutherland,"  and  the  air  was  filled 
with  moist,  gunpowdery  smells,  and  deaf 
ening  reports,  not  alone  from  below  but 
from  above  toward  Monsieur  Bougain 
ville's  position.  The  Frenchies  were  kept 
awake  that  night,  except  one  Vergor  at 
no 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

Anse-de-Foulon,  who  was  a  poltroon  ;  — 
but  of  him  later. 

A  little  midshipman  saluted,  and  told 
me  the  general  waited  me  below.  As  I 
stepped  into  the  cabin  the  sudden  glare  of 
candles  blinded  me.  Then  I  saw  Jim,  our 
old  Jim,  and  Jack  Jervis.  They  were 
alone,  and  very  quiet.  Jim's  face  was  sunk 
in  his  hands.  When  he  looked  up  I  saw 
his  eyes  were  strangely  bright,  like  those 
of  one  with  fever,  while  his  cheeks  kept 
their  pallor. 

"  You  're  wet,  Charlie,"  Jack  Jervis  said. 

"  Rain 's  as  comfortable  as  powder," 
said  I,  throwing  aside  my  top-coat. 

"  Do  you  wish  you  were  in  England, 
Charlie  ?  I  almost  wish  it  myself!  "  said 
our  friend  the  general. 

"  'T  is  a  pleasant  thought,"  said  I,  softly  ; 
"  yes,  pleasant." 

"  Back  in  the  old  place  —  think  of  it !  " 
The  noise  outside  kept  up  apace.     "  Out 
of  the  infernal  hubbub,"  he  said  wearily. 
But  his  tone  changed. 
in 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

"  Jervis  and  you,  Charlie,  are  good 
chaps —  good  friends  when  you  are  friends. 
I  swear  you  will  have  another  career  some 
day  than  the  army.  I  believe  you  're  here 
now  because  old  John  Beechwood  thought 
I  'd  look  after  you  a  bit." 

"  Out  of  the  spirit  of  adventure,  Jim," 
said  I. 

"  But  what  has  it  led  to  ?  Only  to  dis 
grace,  defeat.  Your  uncle  chose  a  sorry 
fellow  to  be  guardian." 

"  Your  pains  have  reached  to  your  brain, 
Jim,"  Jervis  said,  with  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  Likely  !  Likely  !  I  swear  at  my  body 
sometimes.  I  'd  better  swear  at  my  fol 
lies  ;  though  I  believe  those  bitter  days  at 
Iverness  counted  for  as  much  against  me. 
I  was  a  fool  —  often." 

But  when  we  tried  to  interrupt  him,  he 
laughed,  his  humor  changing,  as  it  did  so 
wondrous  fast  at  times,  so  that  it  took 
ready  wit  to  follow  him. 

"  Oh,   don't    bother.     I    have   a    plan. 

112 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

There 's    a    slanting    path     up     Anse-de- 
Foulon." 

"  And  twenty-four  go  forward.  Let  me 
be  leader,"  I  cried,  catching  at  his  spirit. 

"  But  you  must  not.  I  intended 
ordering  you  down  to  Admiral  Saunders, 
Charlie." 

"  Go  I  must,  Jim  !  You  must  let  me," 
I  cried.  "  Let  me  have  my  share  of  the 
glory  —  " 

"  Or  the  ignominy —  " 

"  Or  the  disgrace,  with  you,  Jim." 

"  But  how  can  I  ?  Did  not  your  uncle, 
that  gruff  old  John  Beechwood,  do  me 
many  a  favor  ?  Shall  I  put  his  nephew 
in  the  way  of  dying  —  or  of  a  heroism, 
maybe  ?  " 

"  For  that  reason  let  me  go  with  you," 
I  said  again.  "  Oh,  Jim,  don't  deny  me. 
Let  me  have  command  of  the  twenty-four. 
And  let  my  men  follow.  I  may  not  be 
so  good  an  officer.  I  may  be  younger 
than  Murray,  or  Townsend,  or  Monckton  ! 
But  —  " 

8  113 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

"  You  shall  have  it,  Charlie.  Yes,  man, 
you  shall  have  it.  I  '11  order  yours  from 
the  south  shore  with  Burton.  If  I  succeed 
you  '11  thank  me.  If  I  fail  again  you  can 
no  more  than  share  the  dishonor." 

"  I  wish  I  were  in  it,"  said  Jervis.  "  I 
wish  — " 

"  You  must  do  something  else  for  me, 
Jack,"  our  Jim  said.  Then  I  saw  he  had 
something  in  his  hand  ;  and  when  he  turned 
it  to  the  light  it  proved  to  be  a  little  por 
trait  —  painted  very  neatly,  Will  — of  Kate 
Lowther.  There,  in  the  cabin  of  the  ad 
miral's  ship,  on  the  stormy,  tumultuous 
night,  was  your  cousin's  miniature.  And, 
indeed,  it  had  been  in  all  that  long  siege, 
because  our  ugly,  dear  general  had  worn 
it  always. 

"  Give  it  her,  Jack.     That 's  all." 

"  But  you  will  yourself." 

"  The  chance  is  against  me." 

"  Shall    I   say   anything    beyond  ?  "  said 
Jervis.      He  was  rather  clumsy  that  night, 
I  think  because  he  liked  our  friend,  though 
114 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

we  had  been  through  so  much,  and  to 
gether  had  laughed  at  death,  and  seen  it  at 
its  worst  —  when  some  poor  devil  was  cry 
ing  in  agony  of  a  wound  a  thousand  times 
keener  than  the  direct  thrust. 

"  Oh,  she  will  know,"  said  Jim.  "  She 
is  one  of  the  women  who  understand." 

Nor  did  we  smile  at  this  lover-like  re 
mark,  as  we  might  have  in  a  lighter  mood, 
when  at  home,  or  in  camp,  some  one  passed 
the  jesting  story.  So  with  unchallenged 
and  unusual  sentiment  he  continued  :  — 

"  I  never  believed  in  women  till  that 
time  at  Bath,  and  —  there 's  no  woman 
like  her,  Jack." 

"  I  will  keep  it  till  you  ask  for  it,  Jim." 

"  Till  I  ask  for  it !  Why,  sir,  I  don't 
believe  I  could  drag  myself  back  to  Eng 
land  with  this  poor  old  body,  should  we 
get  through — should  we  —  " 

He  turned  to  us  both  then. 

"  You  shall  lead  the  twenty-four, 
Charlie,  up  the  slope  alone.  Good-bye, 
Jack." 

"5 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

A  knock  came  at  the  door.  "  Major 
Stobo,"  said  the  aide-de-camp. 

"  Wait,"  the  general  said  to  me.  "  Ask 
General  Monckton  and  Admiral  Holmes 
to  come  below."  These  entered  directly, 
not  hiding  entirely  their  distrust  of  the 
leader's  despairing  plan.  He  told  them  I 
had  asked  to  lead  the  volunteers,  and  that 
my  men  should  follow  with  Colonel  Bur 
ton,  for,  he  was  pleased  to  say,  my  past 
service  deserved  this  post.  Will,  he  had 
ever  a  prejudice  in  a  friend's  favor. 

The  details  you  may  know  :  how  we 
understood  a  provision  convoy  was  to  be 
sent  by  Bougainville,  and  how  in  the  dark 
ness  we  swung  stilly  down  stream,  I  in 
the  foremost  boat,  nervous  and  not  quite 
myself,  he  at  my  side.  Below,  the  guns  of 
Saunders  still  sounded,  but  about  was  only 
the  dip  of  oars. 

If  Bougainville's  men  noted,  they  doubt 
less  thought  it  the  usual  feigning ;  so  many 
times  had  they  seen  our  boats  go  up  and 
down  with  ebb  and  flow.  Our  general 
116 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

was  very  still,  but  I  heard  his  voice  mutter 
ing  something,  I  think,  of  Gray,  the  poet : 

"  The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

As  boys,  we  should  have  laughed  at  him; 
but  in  earnest  danger  there 's  incongruity 
in  the  farcical,  though  I  have  known  the 
contrary. 

"  I  wish  I  could  have  written  such  a  line," 
said  he. 

I  might  have  told  him  he  could  write  a 
better;  but  one  thought  not  of  wit  or  dis 
cussion  then.  Our  general  talked  his 
verse,  as  he  was  so  earnest  a  soul,  Will  — 
so  changeable  in  means,  and  yet  so  stead 
fast  at  his  main  end;  all  the  apparent 
changes  were  only  to  the  set  purpose. 
He  would  not  be  defeated.  And  at  last 
he  was  taking  what  seemed  simply  the 
fool's  chance.  And  we  were  eager  to 
follow  him —  even  those  among  us  (not  I, 
Will,  you  know)  who,  because  he  was  not 
of  noble  birth,  disliked  to  serve  him  who 
had  won  his  own  distinction. 
117 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

At  the  left,  the  dark  cliffs  enveloped  the 
enterprise  with  added  gloom.  The  tumult 
from  the  Beauport  shore  far  below  quieted, 
when  suddenly  a  hoarse  voice  cried  :  — 

"  Qui  vive  ?  " 

"  France  !  "  I  answered,  in  the  tongue 
you  and  I  acquired  at  the  Embassy  in  Paris, 
Will. 

"  A  quel  Regiment  ?  " 

"  De  la  Reine  !  "  I  cried  again. 

We  held  our  very  breaths,  for  suppos 
ing  the  provision  convoy,  told  of  by  the 
deserters,  had  passed  !  But  chance  (God 
knows  no  chance,  as  the  clergy  say)  fa 
vored.  Bougainville,  though  we  did  not 
know  this  till  the  events  long  after,  had 
countermanded  his  order,  but  had  not  sent 
notice  'long  shore. 

"  They  are  deceived,"  whispered  Colonel 
Fraser  at  my  elbow.  The  general  him 
self  did  not  stir,  for  I  stood  close  by  him ; 
when  suddenly,  with  terrible  distinctness, 
another  challenge  rang  out  from  the 
heights :  — 

118 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

"  Qui  vive  ?  " 

For  an  instant  the  tongue  clave  to  the 
roof  of  my  mouth ;  and  then,  in  the 
accent  you  used  to  compliment,  Will,  I 
said  again  :  — 

"  France;  de  la  Reine."  In  louder  tone 
I  cried  to  that  challenger  to  hold  his 
tongue.  "  Pour  le  Roi,"  the  ship  "  Hun 
ter  "  hung  close  mid-stream.  Would  they 
believe  ?  Can  you  imagine,  Will,  how  the 
oars  strained  in  the  stillness  ?  But  there 
was  only  the  soughing  water,  and  the  pelt 
ing  rain  that  froze  on  the  cheeks.  Around 
Anse-de-Foulon  the  boats  pulled,  on  and 
on.  Again  we  heard  Saunders's  batteries  ; 
and  firing  behind,  farther  up.  Our  boat 
grated  on  the  pebbles,  and  the  general  and 
I  leapt  to  the  shore,  tumbling  and  slipping 
over  the  icy  stones.  Above,  far  above  the 
head-land,  were  scattered  lights. 

For  a  moment   I    pressed   Jim's  hand, 

while  the  volunteers  crowded  at  my  heels. 

"  Up,  every   man   as    he    may,"  I    said,  I 

think ;  and   I   was  pulling  myself  up  the 

119 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

slippery  precipice,  catching  the  bushes, 
sliding  back,  and  crawling  forward.  I 
could  have  sworn  I  was  hours  in  that  steep 
way,  though  really  I  suppose  the  time  could 
not  have  been  longer  than  a  quarter  hour. 
At  last  the  long  climb  ended,  and  I  was 
breathless  in  a  level  space,  surrounded  by 
the  little  band,  every  man  catching  a  gasp 
ing  breath.  Before  I,  indeed,  could  say  a 
word,  a  half  dozen  sprang  forward  toward 
a  cluster  of  tents,  where  the  twinkling 
lights  were.  On  the  height  a  darkish  dawn 
began  to  declare  itself.  Running  with 
my  men  we  heard  cries  before,  saw  some 
springing  from  the  tents.  One,  in  a  long 
white  night-robe,  I  pricked  in  the  heel 
with  a  pistol  shot,  —  the  very  Captain 
Vergor,  as  I  found  from  his  broken  ex 
planation.  My  men  came  struggling  with 
two  others,  caught  half-dressed  and  rub 
bing  their  heavy  eyes.  "  You  slept  too 
well,  captain,"  said  I  to  the  prisoner. 

"  You  are  ze  vakeful  ones,"  spoke  this 
little    dark    trembling    fellow.     The   rain 
120 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

was  now  in  torrents ;  but  the  dawn  already 
showed  the  files  of  red  coats  forming 
behind ;  and  there  was  our  Jim,  Will  — 
his  feebleness  all  gone. 

"  Quick  !  We  must  stop  that  !  "  he 
said,  pointing  to  a  height  where  firing  had 
begun.  "  It  's  on  our  boats."  That,  my 
dear  Will,  the  battery  at  Samos  Point,  a 
score  of  us  silenced. 

The  rain  was  pelting,  I  have  said ;  but 
no  man  minded  the  wetting  of  the  dismal, 
hopeful  morning.  Not  an  enemy  was  now 
in  sight  since  the  battery  at  Samos  had 
been  choked.  Company  after  company 
filed  up  the  narrow  path  to  the  height. 
Three  small  pieces,  drawn  up  over  many 
obstacles,  formed  our  artillery.  The  gen 
eral  paced  up  and  down,  erect,  pale,  wet,  — 
the  keen,  alert  leader.  We,  the  followers, 
felt  repaid  for  all  those  months  of  ineffec 
tual  effort  and  inaction,  for  now  we  should 
achieve  something.  Yet  we  were  in  a 
most  critical  position.  Bougainville  was 
behind  ;  Quebec  before.  Everywhere,  not- 
121 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

ing  every  company,  exchanging  a  word 
with  some  little  officer,  was  the  general. 

Yet  mostly  he  was  silent,  looking  over 
his  ground ;  and  at  last  we  knew  that 
among  the  bushes  and  the  cornhills  of  the 
plain  between  the  St.  Charles  and  the 
St.  Lawrence  our  line  was  to  be  made. 
Though  Colonel  Burton  and  the  rest  of 
Webb's  formed  the  reserve,  the  general 
placed  me  with  Monckton  and  Murray  in 
the  van.  The  place  we  had  so  struggled 
for  was  not  a  mile  away ;  but  a  little  ridge 
(these  Canadians  called  it  the  Buttes  a 
Neveti)  intervened.  I  was  arranging  my 
men  when  a  white  plume  appeared  above 
this  line ;  a  startled  cry,  a  "  Vive  le  roi !  " 
We  blazed  away,  and  saw  their  heels  over 
the  slope,  while  the  Highland  slogan  fol 
lowed  as  glibly  as  their  own  facile  tongues 
and  as  easily  as  their  nimble  legs. 

So  Monsieur  Guienne's  frightened  de 
tachment  carried  the  news,  I  suppose,  to 
Monsieur  Ramsey  in  the  town,  and  to 
Monsieur  Vaudreuil  and  the  marquis.  We 
122 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

had  some  little  firing  in  the  rear  from 
Bougainville,  and  it  fell  still  again.  In 
all,  some  forty-eight  hundred  stood  on 
that  highland  against  all  the  Canadas. 
If  they  had  known,  how  easily  they 
might  have  cut  us  off.  But  they  did  not 
suspect.  They  could  not  understand  that 
the  general  so  dared  fate.  And  his  cool 
presumption  won.  It 's  difficult  sometimes 
to  separate  foolhardiness  from  designing 
bravery. 

I  think,  dear  Wil1,  his  ardor  animated 
every  man  of  us.  Once  I  had  word  of  him 
in  the  wait,  while  we  stood  challenged. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  're  here,  Charlie,"  said 
he  in  the  tones  of  our  old  days ;  "  for  it 's 
death." 

"  Or  glory,"  said  I,  almost  repeating 
our  words  in  the  cabin  of  the  "  Suther 
land." 

"  Glory 's  a  phrase,"  said  Jim.  "  It 
brings  it  to  us  to  do  as  well  as  you." 

"  But  they  all  have  done  well,"  said  I. 
"  Even  you,  Jim  !  " 

123 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

"  Humph  !  "  said  he,  smiling  —  when 
some  duty  interrupted. 

And  how  could  they  help  it  in  such  a 
crisis,  when  their  nerves  were  stretched  to 
highest  tension  ?  Men  are  not  cowards 
when  nerves  tingle. 

But  all  this  you  know,  Will ;  how  every 
man  of  us,  down  to  a  gunner,  waited  a 
hard  fight,  and  death  perhaps.  Now  the 
great  marquis  —  for  great  he  was,  Will, 
though  a  Frenchman  —  decided  to  charge 
alone.  It  seemed  as  if  God  in  heaven 
watched  us  that  day,  and  granted  our 
leader  the  guerdon  of  his  daring. 

From  the  bushes,  from  the  ground,  were 
puffs  of  smoke,  savages,  and  voyageurs 
des  bois,  and  white  uniformed  skirmishers. 
The  little  cannon  answered  ;  but  we  stood 
still,  firm  and  composed,  waiting,  wait 
ing. 

I   saw   far   off  a    man   on   a   dark    bay 

horse,    brandishing     a     sword,     his     wide 

sleeves  flapping   in  the  wind.     The  clouds 

parted,   the   strong   light   falling   on   him ; 

124 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

and  't  was  dark  again,  with  the  rain 
in  our  faces.  "  Montcalm,"  whispered 
one. 

Our  skirmishers  were  thrown  before, 
behind ;  the  light  infantry  called  forward. 
Still  we  stood  immovable  in  the  van. 
We  heard  cries  and  musketry  to  the  right 
and  left.  To  the  ground  we  fell  (it 's  long 
after  Braddock's,  Will).  Our  hard-earned 
field-pieces  did  their  work.  A  captain  — 
one  Tom  Terwilliger,  whom  you  knew, 
Will  —  rolled  over  on  my  right.  And 
over  the  ridge  we  saw  the  enemy  coming, 
the  Canadians  on  the  left,  the  regulars  in 
the  middle.  On  they  strode,  shouting, 
gesticulating,  as  the  French  way  is.  Cap 
tain  Terwilliger  groaned.  I  was  too  ex 
cited  to  notice  him  till,  suddenly,  I  saw 
the  general  kneeling  by  his  side,  and  feel 
ing  his  pulse  as  if  he  were  some  dear 
friend,  and  saying  gently  :  — 

"  I  'm  sorry,  captain,  sorry  —  we  '11 
have  you  easier  directly.  Bravely,  cap 
tain,  you  have  won  promotion."  He 
125 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

turned  to  me,  "  Tell  Monckton  to  re 
member  that,  should  I  fail." 

"  Thank  ye,  sir,"  gasped  poor  Ter- 
williger.  "  I  'm  sorry  that  devilish  bullet 
knocked  me." 

They  appeared  to  stumble  over  each 
other,  and  from  my  distance  I  believe  I 
could  distinguish  how  each  called  on  and 
swore  by  his  particular  saint.  A  Cana 
dian  and  a  white  coat  would  rise  out  of 
the  melee,  the  Canadian  firing,  falling  to 
the  ground  to  reload ;  those  behind  tum 
bling  over  him  with  more  invocations  to  the 
saints  to  curse  obstructions,  and  us  in  par 
ticular. 

"  Forward  !  "  was  the  word  to  us. 

"  Halt  !  " 

Perfectly  still  we  stood,  the  disordered 
French  line  almost  upon  us.  They  were 
at  our  musket-tips  when  the  order  came. 
For  an  instant  I  was  deaf,  Will ;  the  roar 
was  like  the  explosion  from  a  magazine; 
and  when  the  smoke  cleared  —  God  save 
me  from  ever  seeing  a  sight  more  horrid  ! 
126 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

Body  was  piled  on  body.  Men  cursed  and 
struggled.  In  a  manlier  tone  we  returned 

DO 

their  cries,  the  Highlander  outyelling  us 
all :  "  England  !  "  "  God  save  the  king  !  " 
On  we  bore,  on  and  on,  the  line  behind 
pushing  us  as  if  we  had  wished  to  lag. 
Excitement  carried  us  in  a  kind  of  frenzy. 
Men  fought  hand-to-hand,  and  fell  —  to 
rise  again,  and  fight. 

In  some  way  I  found  myself  in  a  clear 
space  —  I  know  not  how  I  came  there. 
I  tried  to  raise  my  right  arm  once,  but  for 
the  first  time  in  this  life  it  refused  the 
order.  My  writing  will  show  that  musket 
ball,  I  think,  Will,  if  nothing  else.  But 
then  I  did  n't  feel  it  or  care  at  all.  I  still 
ran  till  I  found  myself  almost  alone,  away 
from  the  crowd,  and  stumbling  across  one 
sitting  on  the  ground.  "  The  general !  " 
called  Lieutenant  Brown  of  the  Grenadiers. 
"  Look  out,  man,  the  general  has  fallen, 
and  ye  '11  run  him  down."  "  Jim,"  I  said 
then,  coming  to  my  senses.  Four  others 


127 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

were  about  him.  I  blessed  the  chance 
bringing  me  there. 

"  Lift  him  up,  you  fools  !  "  I  cried.  For 
the  first  time  the  arm  gave  a  horrible 
twitch,  as  I  kneeled  toward  him,  who  ap 
peared  so  spent. 

"  It 's  all  over  with  me.  Look  to  the 
enemy  !  " 

"They  are  looked  to,  sir,"  said  Brown, 
who,  glancing  up,  shaded  his  eyes  with  his 
hand ;  and,  forgetting  all,  broke  into  a  cry : 

"  God,  how  they  run  !  " 

As  gently  as  we  could  we  lifted  the  leader 
in  our  arms  ;  but  this  hurt  him,  and  almost 
reverently  we  placed  him  on  the  ground 
again.  Then  as  men  may  with  ebbing  vi 
tality,  he  raised  his  head  convulsively  —  his 
eyes  quite  keen  and  sparkling. 

"  Who  run  ?  " 

"  The  enemy,  sir." 

"  Quick  !  "  cried  Jim,  "  tell  Colonel 
Burton  to  march  Webb's  down  to  the 
Charles  Bridge." 

"  Go  !  "  I  whispered  to  the  lieutenant  of 
128 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

the  Grenadiers.  I  would  not  leave  him 
then.  Jim's  eyes  seem  to  comprehend 
me. 

"  And  you,  my  Charlie  ?  Are  ye  quite 
alive?" 

"  As  alive  as  you,  Jim.  Ah,  you  must 
not  be  hurt !  " 

"  But  hurt  I  am.  You  '11  see  Kate 
Lowther  ? " 

"  Yes,  Jim." 

"  Oh,  it  was  Jervis  who  was  to  do  that 
favor  instead.  You  're  here,  Charlie  ;  you 
would  be  here  —  and  they  run  !  " 

"  They  run." 

"  God  be  praised  —  It 's  over  !  " 

For  a  moment  he  lay  quite  still,  and  not 
many  moments  after,  "  it  was  well  with 
him,"  as  some  Latin  or  Greek  poet  —  I 
swear  I  can't  remember  which  —  we  read 
it  when  we  were  boys  —  said  of  the  dead. 

Of  course  you  expected  so  much  of  him, 

and  knew  him  better,  as  the  dearest  fellow. 

If  faults  he  had  many,  we  understood  these 

to    like    them,  because   they  were  Jim's. 

9  129 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

You,  as  well  as  I,  knew  the  dull,  uncon 
querable  perseverance  which  would  not 
yield,  however  the  world  went.  On  a 
little  thread  of  chance  he  hung  his  last 
hope,  and  won  glory  for  England,  and 
for  himself — some  talk  at  home,  and 
a  monument. 

The  rest  you  know.  The  marquis,  too, 
was  dead.  We  marched  at  last  into  his 
poor  broken  strong  place,  and  here  Mur 
ray  decided  that  I  should  remain.  And 
here  I  am,  rather  sad,  with  a  bad  right 
arm,  and  shattered  health,  and  a  serious 
attack  of  ennui.  When  I  think  of  Eng 
land  so  far  away,  sometimes  I  'm  heart 
sick.  I  think  of  you  in  the  minuet,  and 
I  see  all  of  your  life.  I  swear  I  can  hear 
Molly's  voice,  and  feel  Ajax's  cold  nose 
against  my  fingers  —  and  see  his  dumb, 
dog's  eyes.  (Perhaps  he  is  dead  by  this 
time.)  But  I  think  you  have  had  enough 
of  this,  when  you  may  get  it  in  the  dear 
old  house.  You  will  have  no  need  to 
think  of  poor  glorious  Jim.  The  world 
130 


The  Extreme  Edge  of  Hazard 

thinks  of  him  now.  Ah,  if  he  only  knew  ! 
I  think  he  might  be  repaid  for  all  his  disap 
pointments.  But  he  dared,  he  won  ;  and 
is  no  longer  conscious  of  what  he  won. 

It 's  snowing  outside.  An  icy  wind 
blows  up  from  the  river.  We  find  it 
lonely  enough,  and  cold  enough.  But  I 
suppose  we  should  not  care  for  these  things 
—  we  have  won  the  Canadas  !  Yet  I  don't 
believe  we  think  so  much  of  having  done 
that  as  you.  We  wish  we  had  some  better 
beef  and  sweeter  beer,  and  that  we  could 
see  some  people  across  the  seas. 

My  remembrance  to  your  cousins,  the 
Lowthers  ;  and  with  love  to  you  and  y'rs, 

I  am 

Y'rs  affec'ly  and  ob'ntly, 

CHARLES. 


The  Decoy  Despatch 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

I  CAN  remember  it  so  well  that  the 
whole  scene  is  before  me  as  vividly  as 
if  it  were  now,  and  I  can  go  over  my  own 
questionings  as  the  matter  was  put.  It 
was,  indeed,  the  Jersey  Prison-ship,  the 
Sugar  House,  or  this.  It  was  to  be  tied, 
when  I,  who  always  had  been,  again  might 
be  free.  And,  more,  I  should  gain  some 
comfort  of  riches,  when  I  and  mine  always 
had  slaved  to  poverty.  Around  me  in  the 
place  I  had  left  was  filth,  scurvy ;  and 
now,  as  Ratham  put  it,  I  could  be  done 
with  this  and  be  free  to  go  as  I  wished. 

"  Why,  man,  it 's  as  easy  for  you  as 
walking.  Do  you  suppose  I  should  hesi 
tate  ?  Not  I." 

And  he  gave  me  from  under  his  beetling 
brows  a  smile  of  good-will  that  I  knew  was 
'35 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

but  cunning  show  ;  for  it  was  only  his  eyes 
that  smiled,  his  face  fixed. 

"  It  may  be  easy  for  you,"  said  I,  bit 
terly.  "  You  are  of  the  other  side." 

"  Yes,  frankly,"  said  he,  "  I  am  for  the 
king,  and  I  should  not  be  asking  you  this 
if  I  were  not.  Yet  —  " 

"  Yet  ?  "  said  I,  grasping  at  any 
excuse. 

"  I  am  a  man  of  property ;  you,  abomi 
nably  poor.  If  I  were  in  your  place  I 
would  think  twice,  for  it  means  an  hun 
dred  pounds.  An  hundred  pounds  is  not 
to  be  had  easily  —  in  peace  or  war." 

"  No,"  said  I,  reflecting.  With  that 
hundred  pounds  I  might  ask  Peggy.  What, 
after  all,  was  all  this  question  to  me  per 
sonally  ?  I  was  sergeant,  but  the  pay  was 
poor;  had  no  particular  prospect,  which 
ever  side  won,  for  I  ever  had  small  wit  at 
trading  or  saving.  And  I  might  —  with 
that  hundred  pounds  —  I  might  start  a 
"  public  "  somewhere,  and  I  might  have  the 
reason  for  asking  Peggy ;  and  then,  be- 
136 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

sides,  it  meant  freedom.  I,  who  liked  the 
woods  and  fields,  could  not  bear  being 
cooped.  Why  should  n't  I  take  the 
chance  ? 

"  Why  should  n't  you  ?  "  asked  Ratham, 
reading  my  thought. 

Ah,  why  should  n't  I  ?  If  I  were  rich 
or  influential  I  should  be  exchanged,  but 
as  it  was  I  might  rot.  But  could  I  do  this 
thing  ?  My  friends  were  with  Congress. 

"  Equally  your  friends  are  loyalists," 
Ratham  said,  again  reading  me,  although  I 
had  said  nothing. 

Yes,  that  might  be.  Half  of  New 
York  was  Tory,  and  I  had  been  brought 
up  on  Ratham's  land.  I  knew  him,  but 
not  as  well  as  he  me,  —  his  cleverness ; 
how  hard  he  ever  had  been  with  his 
tenants ;  how  strong  he  was  ;  how  deter 
mined  for  the  king. 

"  Well,  shall  I  take  you  to  Sir  William  ? " 

The  chance  beckoned. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  sullenly ;  and  then 
gladly,  "I'll  take  it." 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

"  But  what,"  said  he,  eying  me  curi 
ously,  "  if  you  betray  us  ?  " 

"  I  have  given  my  word,"  said  I  —  "to 
the  devil." 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Philip,"  said 
he.  "  I  know  you."  Yes,  he  knew  me, 
heart  and  soul,  as  he  knew  all  men. 
"  Come  ;  we  '11  to  Sir  William." 

And  I  followed  him  out  on  to  Broad 
way,  where  the  sun  was  bright  and  the 
street  gay  with  the  crowd.  Only  the 
blackened  ruins  of  Trinity  showed  what 
war  had  done.  These  gay  London  and 
New  York  gentlemen,  these  Tory  ladies, 
were  as  contemptuous  of  the  war  with 
their  festivities  as  if  the  land  were  not 
suffering. 

And  I  breathed  the  air,  glad  of  my 
decision.  I  should  have  money,  be  free. 
And  the  service  was  easy  —  but  to  carry  a 
decoy  despatch  !  And  what,  indeed,  did 
it  matter  ?  Must  not  every  man  aid  him 
self?  Is  not  the  first  rule  self-preser 
vation  ?  It 's  a  sorry  struggle  with  the 
138 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

world  at  the  best ;  a  sorry  fight  to  keep 
one's  probity.  Everything  is  fair  when 
the  world  is  against  one. 

We  found  Sir  William  writing.  I  felt 
awe  of  the  great  man,  who  looked  me  over 
as  he  might,  in  a  good  humor,  a  soldier  in 
the  ranks. 

"  This  is  our  friend  ?  "  he  asked.  "  He 
is  trustworthy  ? " 

At  this  I  liked  not  my  mission  so 
well ;  to  be  trustworthy  to  them  meant  be 
ing  untrustworthy  to  the  others.  There 
in  is  the  whole  complex  definition  of 
untrustworthiness. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  general,  as  if  he 
were  convinced :  "  this  letter  is  addressed 
to  General  Burgoyne.  It  reads :  c  If, 
according  to  my  expectations,  we  may 
succeed  in  getting  possession  of  Boston,  I 
shall  without  loss  of  time  proceed  to  co 
operate  with  you  in  the  defeat  of  the  rebel 
army  opposed  to  you.  Clinton  is  suffi 
ciently  strong  to  amuse  Washington  and 
Putnam.  I  am  now  making  demonstra- 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

tions  to  the  southward,  which,  I  think, 
will  make  the  full  effect  in  carrying  our 
plan  into  execution.'  I  read  it,  because 
you  would  better  know  its  purport,  which  is 
to  deceive  the  rebels  as  to  our  plans.  It 's 
to  fall  into  General  Putnam's  hands  —  do 
you  understand  ? " 

"  He  does,  your  excellency,"  Ratham 
said  for  me,  when  I  answered,  like  a  poll- 
parrot,  "  I  understand."  Sir  William 
watched  me  a  moment,  and  then,  with  a 
gesture,  dismissed  us. 

"  Here  's  the  money,"  said  Ratham  out 
side,  counting  a  hundred  sovereigns  bear 
ing  King  George's  likeness.  "  You  never 
will  earn  money  so  easily."  I  looked  at  the 
gold  and  at  him,  whom  I  loathed. 

Yet  with  the  glitter  of  those  pieces  my 
last  compunction  vanished.  What  is  there 
about  gold  that  the  yellow  of  it  burns  into 
the  brain  ?  I  suddenly  held  Ratham  not  in 
such  poor  esteem. 

And  then  I  was  started,  thinking  of 
these  things. 

140 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

And  exactly  according  to  programme, 
I  fell  in  with  General  Putnam's  outposts, 
when  I  was  taken  to  the  general  himself, 
who  chanced  to  be  at  that  point.  He  had 
known  me.  Now  I  thought  he  would 
read  my  soul. 

"  You  are  turned  honest,  Philip  ? " 

"  I  always  was,"  said  I,  bridling ;  and 
carrying  on  the  show  of  the  thing,  I 
added,  "  but  your  excellency  knows  that 
I  could  not  but  hand  you  that  despatch 
—  although  I  was  bribed  to  the  con 
trary." 

"  You  are  one  of  the  men  who,  God 
helping,  will  win  this  fight,"  the  general 
continued.  I  could  not  face  his  simple 
directness.  He  added,  "  I  '11  send  it  to 
General  Washington." 

Outside,  where  I  went  as  free  as  the  air, 
I  sickened  of  it  all.  And  then,  in  the 
village,  I  saw  Peggy.  What  she  was  like 
I  can't  say,  save  that  she  was,  and  is,  the 
girl  for  me. 

When  we  had  talked,  I  boasted : 
141 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

"  I  have  money,  Peggy.  Now  we  can 
be  married." 

"  How  did  you  come  by  it,  John 
Philip  ?  " 

I  could  lie  glibly  before  General 
Putnam,  but  not  before  her  eyes.  I 
stammered. 

u  Had  it  anything  to  do  with  the 
despatch?"  said  she,  —  "anything  at  all, 
John  Philip?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I ;  and  I  could  not  lie  to 
her,  strangely  enough.  "  Yes." 

She  drew  back  with  horror  on  her  face. 
"  Talk  not  to  me  —  spy  !  "  said  she. 

I  thought  she  called  to  me,  but  I  could 
not  turn  back. 

Spy  !  The  word  rang  in  my  ears. 
Yes,  I  was,  plainly  enough.  She  was 
right.  And  suddenly  I  detested  myself. 
I  was  traitor.  I  could  not  help  being 
traitor  to  one  or  the  other.  But  which  ? 
I  felt  in  my  pocket,  where  the  sovereigns 
jingled.  One  I  took  and  flung  far  away 
from  me.  And  then  I  paused,  laughing. 
142 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

'T  was  equally  sin  to  throw  away  good 
money.  I  searched  in  the  road  for  the 
piece.  But  it  had  gone,  and  then  I  sighed 
at  my  impulsiveness. 

But  there  were  other  considerations  than 
these  of  money  in  this  affair.  Clearly 
there  was  that  of  honor,  which  I  had  lost, 
whichever  way  I  might  turn.  There  was 
only  one  way,  after  all  —  I  could  not  dis 
guise  it  —  and  that  was  the  way  Peggy's 
scorn  made  imperative. 

"  I  wish  to  see  the  general,"  I  asked 
of  General  Putnam's  orderly,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  I  was  again  in  the  general's 
presence.  He  regarded  me  with  sur 
prise,  I  think,  which  I  understood  only  too 
well. 

"  What  is  it,  Philip  ?  " 

"  The  letter  ?  "  said  I,  faintly. 

"It's  gone  to  General  Washington," 
said  he,  his  voice  not  unkind. 

"  General,"  said  I,  "  that  was  a  decoy 
letter." 

"  What  d  'ye  mean,  man  ?  " 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

"  It  was  intended  to  fall  into  your 
hands." 

He  looked  as  if  he  thought  me  mad. 

"  D'  ye  know  that  you  risk  death  as  a 
spy  ? " 

"  I  know  it,"  said  I,  and  then  I  fumbled 
in  my  pocket  and  counted  out  the  sover 
eigns.  "  These  are  properly  yours.  They 
gave  them  to  me  to  carry  the  letter  and  to 
be  arrested  with  it.  One  I  threw  away." 
For  a  moment  he  paused  ;  for  a  moment 
looked  me  over  from  head  to  toe.  "  It  's 
this,"  said  I,  answering  his  look  in  kind, 
and  rinding  I  could  face  him  unflinchingly  : 
"  I  'm  a  poor  man,  General  Putnam.  The 
money  —  and  freedom  —  were  temptation. 
I  have  been  prisoner  with  them  so  long  I 
wished  freedom.  I  was  tempted  — thought 
I  could  carry  this  thing  through.  But  I 
can't,  General  Putnam;  I  have  told  you 
everything." 

I  wondered  what  he  would  do  then.  I 
knew  he  was  a  decided  man,  to  whom  I 
could  talk  more  easily  than  to  some  of  the 
144 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

fine  gentlemen  in  our  service.  I  don't  be 
lieve  I  should  have  had  the  heart  before 
another;  but  to  him  it  was  different.  He 
was  more  of  our  Northern  farmer  class  — 
could  feel  my  temptation. 

Now  he  did  a  queer  thing,  for  he 
advanced  after  looking  me  over  narrowly. 

"  Philip,  you  have  been  tempted.  I 
understand.  I  suspected  the  color  of  the 
despatch,  which  on  its  face  was  unreason 
able.  But  I  shall  have  to  have  you  put 
under  arrest.  I  'm  sorry,  man.  But  I 
honor  your  confession,  —  your  attempt  to 
atone  for  what  you  have  done." 

I  bowed  my  head,  for  I  could  not  an 
swer.  Again  I  was  under  arrest,  and  for 
the  moment  I  regretted  it,  and  then  regret 
passed.  The  girl  who  had  scorned  me 
would  hear  of  this.  She  would  know  that 
at  least  I  had  made  a  sacrifice  to  atone  for 
what  I  had  done.  And  then  it  seemed 
that  my  conscience  approved.  I  had  been 
unfaithful  to  my  employer,  Ratham ;  but 
I  had  turned  over  the  money,  my  price,  to 
10  145 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

General  Putnam.  The  general  had  not 
mentioned  —  simply  had  taken  it.  I  sup 
posed  that  it  was  contraband  of  war  on  my 
confession. 

And  here  was  I  prisoner  again,  on  my 
own  confession,  with  death  after  the  court 
martial  before  me.  I  could  not  imagine  it 
turning  out  differently. 

And  so  six  days  passed,  and  on  the 
morning  of  the  seventh  the  sentinel  came. 

"  You  are  free,  Philip." 

"  Free  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  he  ;  "  here  's  the  order. 
The  court  martial  decided  your  confession 
made  up  for  your  deed.  You  are  dismissed 
the  service." 

I  could  not  understand  it  as  I  stumbled 
out.  Free  !  Could  it  be  ?  But  dismissed 
the  service  in  dishonor  ! 

Outside  was  the  girl  Peggy.  Would  she 
turn  from  me  ? 

"  John  Philip,"  said  she,  and  her  voice 
was  timid. 

"  Can  you  speak  to  me  ?  "  said  I. 
146 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

«  Yes,  John  Philip." 

"  You  forgive  me  ?  " 

But  I  had  no  need  to  ask. 

"  And  General  Putnam  gave  me  this 
for  you." 

And  she  showed  me  a  bag  with  the 
sovereigns  Ratham  had  obtained  for  me 
from  Sir  William  Howe  —  lacking  the 
one. 

"  How  did  you  know  —  "I  began. 

"  I  went  to  General  Putnam,"  said  she. 

"  You  pleaded  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  softly. 

And  then  I  took  the  bag  of  gold. 

"  I  must  return  this  to  Ratham.  I 
have  not  earned  it." 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  say  that,  John 
Philip." 

"  Oh,  if  I  were  not  a  dishonored  man  !  " 

"You  have  won  back  honor,  John 
Philip  —  and  me,  if  you  will  have  me." 

"  But  —  I  cannot  —  "I  began. 

"  You  would  not  leave  me  unhappy  ?  '* 
she  began. 

147 


The  Decoy  Despatch 

But  I  sent  the  gold  to  Ratham.  The 
piece  that  was  lacking  I  borrowed. 

After  a  time  came  his  answer  :  u  Fool, 
you  must  have  had  a  higher  price." 

I  did,  I  am  free  to  confess,  —  Peggy > 
and  some  approval  of  my  own  conscience, 
on  a  little  farm  in  the  Catskills.  But 
among  men  I  am  known  still  as  "  Philip 
the  spy,"  for  such  a  thing  you  cannot  live 
down. 

But  I  have  found  that  some  self-approval 
and  the  approval  of  those  you  hold  dearest 
are  more  than  the  world's.  Still  I  was 
cowardly.  My  repute  has  been  hard  for 
her.  For  her  I  was  selfish.  And  I 
believe  now  I  have  been  punished,  because 
it  was  really  not  so  much  my  wish  for 
self-approval  that  led  to  my  confession  as 
the  wish  for  her. 

And  it 's  for  my  children,  too,  to  bear. 
I  wonder  how  God's  way  is  ?  Yet  I  know 
I  have  not  earned  peace,  because  I  should 
have  borne  my  sin  alone. 

148 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 
Captain  Paul  Jones 


149 


The  Pretty  Wit  of  Captain  Paul 
Jones 

MANY  things  are  told  of  that  redoubt 
able  adventurer  Paul  Jones  —  whom 
I  knew  well  —  to  concede  him,  with  Mr. 
Jefferson  and  Dr.  Franklin,  the  most  su 
preme  merit  as  a  man  of  resource. 

Made  as  he  was  with  the  tireless  spirit 
of  effort,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  he 
should  end  as  he  did,  disappointed  in  his 
career.  I  know  of  nothing  sadder,  more 
tragical,  than  the  end  of  that  poor  cheva 
lier  of  the  Order  of  Merit  of  Louis  XVI. , 
who  had  been  a  most  doughty  captain  in 
our  navy,  and  an  admiral  among  the  Rus 
sians,  where  political  intrigue  obscured  his 
ability,  dying  as  he  did  in  Paris  in  1792. 
I  like  to  think  of  him  better  as  I  knew 
him  in  the  fame  that  the  victory  of  the  "  Bon 
Homme  Richard  "  over  the  "  Serapis  "  had 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

secured  him,  when  he  took  on  rather 
the  manner  of  a  beau,  assumed  fine  airs, 
sported  the  sword  the  king  had  given  him, 
was  petted  by  the  ladies,  —  even  by  Marie 
Antoinette,  then  in  the  fine  heyday  of 
her  gayety  before  her  sad  end ;  I  mean 
the  time  when  he  had  his  celebrated  affair 
with  la  Comtesse  de  Bourbon,  and  with 
Madame  Thellison. 

For  this  little  swarthy  fellow,  with  his 
peering  eye,  his  boasting  over  the  greatness 
of  the  republic  he  served  so  well,  was  ever 
the  admirer  of  a  petticoat  when  its  wearer 
was  fair.  I  am  told  he  had  several  duels 
on  his  hands  on  that  account,  of  one  of 
which  and  its  mysterious  cause  Dr.  Frank 
lin  himself  has  preserved  the  account. 

But  there  is  another,  —  one  between 
himself  and  one  of  the  fairest,  cleverest, 
most  charming  and  dangerous  women  of 
the  court  at  Versailles,  which  I  have 
never  seen  recorded,  and  which  I  will  put 
down  as  I  had  it  myself  from  the  great 
captain's  lips. 

15* 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

The  lady  was  la  Comtesse  Hortense  Le 
Fevre,  a  rich  young  widow,  and  who,  be 
sides  Captain  Paul,  had  many  aspirants  to 
her  favor,  among  others  Lord  Whittlesey, 
of  the  English  foreign  office.  In  the  end 
she  became,  as  you  will  remember,  the 
Countess  of  Whittlesey,  the  mother  of  the 
present  earl  (1813). 

Now,  at  that  time,  the  English  were 
piqued  at  Captain  Jones,  would  not  allow 
him  any  merits  excepting  of  the  Captain 
Kidd  order,  and  dearly  wished  to  catch 
him  that  they  might  swing  him  from  a 
yard-arm. 

Well,  Captain  Jones,  just  then  idle, 
and  because  he  was  a  man  who  must  have 
some  activity,  even  if  it  were  playing  with 
the  fire  of  the  devil,  found  time  for  many 
affairs,  as  I  have  said.  Among  others  he 
conceived  the  passion  for  Madame  Le 
Fevre.  She  was  of  medium  height,  fair, 
plump,  with  the  most  bewitching  lips,  and 
enticing  gray  eyes,  always  exquisitely  gowned 
among  Marie  Antoinette's  ladies,  always 
153 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

most  proficient  at  the  affected  simplicity 
that  played  about  The  Little  Trianon. 

And  behold  our  swarthy  American  cap 
tain,  the  great  son  of  a  Scotch  gardener, 
sighing  for  her,  until  all  the  court  noticed 
it,  and  made  sport  of  him,  and  called  him 
Madame  la  Comtesse's  "  Poor  Paul." 
And  madame  herself  liked  it  all,  counting 
him  but  one  more  victim.  But  she  played 
him  off,  as  she  did  many  other  gentlemen, 
French,  Italian,  Germans,  and  Russians, 
who  wrote  verses  to  her  and  called  her  the 
fair  cruel  cold  Le  Fevre  after  the  fashion 
of  that  day,  when  the  sentimentality,  as 
Monsieur  Rousseau  so  well  expressed  it, 
but  hid  the  horrid  seriousness  of  the  time 
under  this  veneer  all  "out  of  joint." 

She  smiled,  as  I  say,  on  all ;  had  no  favor 
ite  ;  flirted  and  encouraged  just  enough 
without  suffering  scandal  to  touch  her 
skirts.  And  in  the  mean  time,  though  no 
one  knew  it,  she  had  become  secretly 
plighted  to  Lord  Whittlesey.  It  would 
not  have  been  prudent  for  a  lady  who 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

courted  popularity  at  Versailles  at  this 
period  to  have  confessed  a  penchant  for 
an  Englishman. 

Now,  while  our  captain  was  a  shrewd 
fellow  on  the  quarter-deck,  he  was  a  sim 
pleton  where  a  woman  was  concerned,  as 
many  brave  men  before  and  since  have  been. 
More  than  simple,  he  was  as  vain  as  a  pea 
cock  over  his  achievements  in  this  direction. 

And  so  one  night,  after  a  great  affair  at 
court,  when  madame  la  comtesse  had 
been  particularly  cold,  he  was  not  sur 
prised  on  returning  to  his  lodging  to  find  a 
pretty  scented  note  on  his  table,  in  Ma 
dame  Le  Fevre's  hand,  by  all  the  gods  of 
love  and  war.  He  puffed  up  indeed  after 
all  the  chargin  of  defeat.  "  You  never 
can  tell  about  a  woman,"  he  muttered. 
u  When  her  manner  is  distant  she  some 
times  likes  you  most."  And  with  this 
trite  reflection,  which  shows  how  silly  a 
really  brave  -man  may  be  when  out  of  his 
element,  the  doughty  captain  opened  the 
note,  which  read  :  — 
155 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

MY  DEAR  CAPTAIN,  — If  you  will  be  at  nine 
o'clock  to-morrow  evening  entirely  alone  at  the 
house  with  the  carved  griffins  on  the  Rue  Riche 
lieu  you  will  learn  that  the  admiration  of  a 
brave  and  famous  sailor  is  appreciated.  Raise 
the  knocker  three  times  in  quick  succession. 

HORTENSE  LE  F. 

For  a  moment,  despite  all  his  vanity 
about  his  achievements  with  the  sex, 
Captain  Jones  wondered.  Could  it  be 
true  ?  But  there  was  the  note  and  her 
name. 

If  Captain  Jones  had  been  himself  he 
never  would  have  run  into  the  snare. 
Yet  possibly  he  was,  after  all,  his  simple, 
natural  self,  the  gardener's  son,  not  quite 
to  the  manner  born,  a  bit  too  vain,  too 
credulous  of  his  possible  achievements 
with  great  ladies. 

The  long  next  day  lagged.  He  pow 
dered  his  hair,  and  put  on  his  gayest  cos 
tume  and  the  fine  sword  Louis  XVI.  had 
given  him  in  compliment  of  the  victory  of 
u  Le  Bon  Homme  Richard  ;  "  then  when 
156 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

near  the  hour  he  sallied  forth  to  keep  the 
appointment,  for  he  never  doubted  but 
that  his  charmer  awaited  him. 

The  house,  a  building  of  the  Fourth 
Henry's  time,  he  often  had  noticed ; 
for  with  the  curiously  carved  griffins 
at  each  side  of  the  door,  bearing  the  arms 
of  a  former  prince  of  Conde,  it  was 
unmistakable. 

Now,  as  he  took  his  eager  way  through 
the  darkening  streets,  he  had  no  difficulty 
in  finding  it.  The  streets  of  Paris  were 
not  then  as  cleanly  as  they  were  to  be 
come  in  the  great  emperor's  time ;  and 
the  captain,  who  walked,  as  a  matter  of 
caution,  was  grieved  to  think  that  his 
shoes  and  stockings  were  mud  spattered. 
He  stood  there  for  a  moment,  among  the 
few  passers,  thinking  ruefully  that  this 
was  the  case,  and  observing  closely  the 
shuttered  front  of  the  house.  And  then, 
although  that  silent,  impassive  front  had 
made  him  a  bit  suspicious,  he  lifted  the 
knocker  once,  twice,  thrice,  just  at  nine 
J57 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

o'clock.  A  lover,  like  a  warrior,  should 
be  exact  in  his  appointments. 

But  was  he  not  in  fact  ahead  of  the 
time  ?  Was  it  only  a  trick  ?  He  started 
to  lift  the  knocker  again,  when  the  heavy 
door  swung  open  a  crack  and  a  wrinkled 
face  peered  over  the  chain. 

"  Captain  Paul  Jones  ? "  queried  an 
uncertain  voice. 

"  Yes,  I,"  assented  Captain  Jones, 
when  the  chain  rattled,  was  loosed,  the 
door  swung  open  on  a  hall  all  dark,  and 
the  concierge,  or  whatever  she  was,  mo 
tioned  him  in.  The  woman  closed  the 
door,  leaving  him  in  the  blackness  of 
the  interior,  now  for  the  first  time  with 
the  thought  of  the  need  of  caution. 

And  as  he  thought  of  possibilities  of 
danger  after  all  the  ardor  of  his  hope,  he 
was  caught  from  behind  by  strong,  invisi 
ble  arms  ;  a  gag  was  passed  over  his  face ; 
and  though  he  tried  to  struggle,  and  he 
was  one  of  those  little  wiry  men,  it  was 
all  in  vain.  He  was  borne  to  the  floor, 
158 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

bound,  and  his  eyes  bandaged,  his  assail 
ants  the  meantime  saying  not  a  word. 

The  whole  occurrence  was  uncanny, 
—  this  sudden  attack  in  the  obscurity  of 
the  house  where  he  had  expected  light 
and  laughter  ;  the  strong  men  who 
mutely  held  him,  and  against  whom  any 
struggle  was  vain,  —  these  circumstances 
left  the  Chevalier  Paul  Jones  shivering, 
bound  and  gagged,  and  blindfolded  as  he 
was,  and  thrust  aside  in  a  corner,  like  a 
dead  thing.  And  then,  as  he  strained  his 
ears,  his  hearing  indeed  being  the  only 
faculty  of  which  these  bravoes  had  left 
him  the  use,  he  heard  doors  shutting  and 
the  sound  of  heavy  steps  on  the  hard  floors 
of  deserted  rooms.  His  reason  began  to 
return  then,  and  the  first  thing  that  oc 
curred  to  him  was  that  his  silent  assailants 
had  worn  no  shoes.  Was  this  man  or 
men  different  ?  And  then  of  course  he 
perceived  that,  having  accomplished  the 
assault,  need  of  silence  no  longer  existed. 
That  was  patent.  They  had  put  on  their 
159 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

shoes.  But  again  the  house  grew  still, 
excepting  for  his  breathing. 

His  hands  tied  behind  him  and  his  feet 
together,  with  a  strong  rope  that  cut  into 
the  flesh  —  his  eyes  bandaged,  his  mouth 
gagged  —  finding  struggling  useless,  and 
only  knowing  that  the  assailants  had 
dropped  him  where  they  had  taken  him, 
our  brave  chevalier  was  indeed  in  a  horrid 
predicament.  The  only  thing  he  could  do 
was  to  roll  over  the  floor.  He  could  do 
that  with  difficulty,  and  to  and  fro,  right 
and  left ;  and  he  began  the  examination 
of  the  room  in  that  awkward  manner, 
which  was  the  only  way  that  indeed  was 
possible. 

Rolling  to  his  right  about  three  feet,  he 
brought  up  against  a  wall ;  to  his  left  a 
distance  of  ten  feet,  he  bumped  his  head, 
which  the  tortoise-like  movement  brought 
first  against  the  wall.  This  was  a  hall, 
fourteen  feet  more  or  less  broad.  He 
judged  the  distance  from  the  number  of 
turns  his  body  made,  while  he  paused, 
1 60 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

breathing  hard,  as  this  effort,  bound  as  he 
was,  was  most  exhausting.  If  you  do  not 
believe  me,  have  yourself  bound  tight, 
hands  and  feet,  gagged,  and  eyes  blind 
folded,  and  then  try  to  roll  about. 

As  the  Chevalier  Jones  lay  there  in 
this  fashion,  breathing  hard,  and  his  plight 
apparently  hopeless  enough,  he  thought  in 
a  revengeful  spirit  of  Madame  Le  Fevre, 
who  plainly  had  brought  him  into  the 
plight.  He  remembered  that  two  days 
after  there  was  to  be  a  great  ball  at  Ver 
sailles,  on  which  he  had  counted.  He 
thought  of  the  fine  clothes  he  had  worn  to 
the  appointment  which  were  torn  and 
hopelessly  ruined.  He  thought  of  the 
sword  the  king  had  given  him  and  which 
the  assailants  had  taken  away.  And  as 
he  lay  there  his  heart  was  bitter  over  the 
simplicity  of  the  stratagem. 

And  what  did  they  intend  to  do  with 

him  ?     For  a  moment  he  was  cold  with 

perspiration  as  he  thought  the  men  would 

return,  carry  him   out,  and    perhaps  drop 

ii  161 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

him  into  the  Seine.  Then  he  reflected 
that  if  they  had  wanted  to  be  rid  of  him 
they  would  have  killed  him  with  a  sword 
or  dagger  thrust.  More  likely  they  wanted 
to  kidnap  him.  If  they  had  wished  to  kill 
him  they  certainly  would  have  stabbed 
him  beyond  any  noise.  But  why  should 
they  wish  to  kidnap  him  unless  — 

The  plot  suddenly  became  as  clear  as 
day.  They  would  carry  him  to  the  coast, 
put  him  on  some  smuggler,  and  deliver 
him  to  the  authorities  in  England,  who 
had  a  large  reward  offered  for  his  appre 
hension  as  a  pirate  dangerous  to  his  ma 
jesty's  shipping  and  coast.  Had  he  not 
himself  abducted  Lord  Selkirk  ?  And  now 
the  same  methods  were  tried  on  him, 
the  abductor.  Madame  Le  Fevre  plainly 
had  engaged  some  desperate  fellows,  of 
whom  Paris  held  many,  who,  having  noth 
ing  to  lose,  gladly  had  embraced  the  chance 
of  obtaining  the  reward  offered  for  the 
apprehension  of  the  "  pirate  Paul  Jones." 
They  had  caught  him  neatly,  and  now 
162 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

they  had  gone  after  the  carriage  which  was 
to  carry  him  out  of  Paris. 

Impatient  and  angered  over  his  own 
simplicity  in  this  matter,  his  wretched 
vanity  about  women,  he  began  to  strug 
gle  and  roll  about  again.  After  he  had 
struggled  for  some  time  vainly  at  his  bonds, 
the  spirit  of  investigation  returned,  and  he 
began  to  roll  over  and  over,  now  in  the 
other  direction  of  the  room. 

Counting  the  distance  with  the  same 
method  of  calculating  it  he  had  used  be 
fore,  the  length  of  that  room  seemed  end 
less.  He  knew  he  must  make  considerable 
noise  with  his  shuffling  about  in  that  house, 
which  apparently  was  now  deserted. 

Pausing  out  of  utter  exhaustion  and 
breathing  hard,  with  the  gag  cutting  into 
his  mouth,  he  almost  despaired.  And 
then  taking  courage  he  again  began  to 
move  about,  when  he  thought  his  hands 
were  not  so  much  hindered.  Certain,  all 
at  once,  that  the  rope  had  stretched,  he 
stopped  his  rolling  and  tried  to  move  the 
163 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

arm  that  seemed  to  be  least  confined.  As 
he  did  this  the  rope  stretched  further. 
With  hope  he  worked  at  it  again.  These 
fellows  were  not  sailors  in  the  tying  of  a 
knot,  God  be  thanked;  and  after  a  half 
hour  in  this  struggle  he  was  able  to  free  a 
hand. 

Now  give  a  man  like  Captain  Paul 
Jones  one  hand  free  and  he  could  accom 
plish  the  rest.  Twenty  minutes  after,  he 
was  on  his  feet,  bruised  and  maimed  be 
tween  his  struggles  with  his  assailants  and 
the  scarcely  less  severe  one  with  his  bonds. 
But  he  was  free  again,  clothes  torn,  him 
self  cut  and  bruised,  the  ropes  and  ban 
dages  that  had  confined  him  in  a  heap  on 
the  floor. 

The  room  was  dark  except  for  the  light 
that  entered  from  a  high  window  in  the 
rear. 

And  just  then  he  heard  steps  as  from 

some  distant  part  of  the  house.     Trying 

the  front  door,  which  had  admitted   him, 

he  found  it  closed.     In  his  desperation  he 

164 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

turned  through  a  door  at  the  left,  opposite 
to  that  from  which  the  steps  came.  Seeing 
a  window  in  this  room,  he  sprang  toward 
it,  pushed  it  up,  while  over  his  shoulder 
a  glare  of  light  fell  from  the  next  room. 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  a  voice  in  consterna 
tion,  and  in  English. 

"  The  devil !  "  exclaimed  another  in 
French. 

"  Quick,  he  is  in  the  next  room  !  "  said 
the  first. 

By  this  time  Captain  Jones  had  his 
window  opened,  and,  without  pausing  to 
examine  where  he  was  to  land,  he  was 
over  the  sill,  while  a  bullet  fired  by  one  of 
the  pursuers  whistled  past  his  ear.  He 
heard  the  report  an  instant  after  he  sunk 
on  the  soft  turf.  For,  as  luck  would  have 
it,  —  the  luck  which  favors  those  men  that 
dare  all  things,  —  he  had  fallen  on  the  turf 
in  the  little  garden  back  of  this  house.  In 
the  opened  window  above  appeared  sud 
denly  two  faces.  There  were  two  of 
them. 

'65 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

"  Wretches,"  cried  the  Chevalier  Jones, 
forgetting  all  prudence,  "  if  I  had  known 
there  were  only  two  of  you  I  had  stopped 
to  kill  you." 

For  answer  one  of  the  fellows  thrust  his 
leg  over  the  sill  and  dropped,  with  an  oath, 
into  the  garden.  Quicker  than  a  flash,  and 
not  considering  how  many  others  might 
follow,  Captain  Jones's  fingers,  still  numbed 
with  the  bands,  were  at  his  throat,  while  the 
other  fellow  paused  in  the  window  above,  dis 
regarding  his  comrade's  plight,  or  doubtless 
thinking  he  should  be  able  to  settle  a  man 
weakened  as  Captain  Paul  Jones  certainly 
must  be  after  his  terrible  experience.  At 
the  moment  a  loud  pounding  was  heard  at 
the  street  door.  The  man  in  the  window, 
knowing  that  this  probably  came  from  the 
watch  aroused  by  the  pistol  shot,  turned 
and  fled  from  the  window,  doubtless  con 
sidering  it  near  impossible  to  get  away 
over  the  high  wall  enclosing  the  garden, 
and  knowing  an  exit  in  the  rear. 

Captain  Jones,  left  with  his  man,  and 
166 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

being  still  on  top  in  the  struggle,  clung  to 
the  fellow's  throat  with  the  tenacity  of 
desperation,  till  the  man  sank  back  choked 
into  unconsciousness. 

The  noise  and  cries  at  the  front  door 
still  continued. 

By  this  time  the  excitement  of  the  little 
action  had  restored  Captain  Jones's  sense. 
Kicking  the  fellow  to  find  whether  he  was 
really  unconscious,  he  looked  up  to  see  if 
he  could  not  gain  the  house,  to  admit  the 
people  at  the  door,  who,  he  thought,  un 
doubtedly  were  the  watch.  Noticing  a 
vine  that  crept  up  the  stones  almost  to  the 
sill,  he  found  that  clinging  to  it  he  could 
gain  the  sill. 

A  lantern  was  on  the  floor  of  the  room, 
as  the  desperadoes  had  left  it. 

In  the  mean  time  the  knock  and  voices 
at  the  door  were  imperative. 

"  Open,  in  the  king's  name  !  " 

"  I  cannot.     They  have  taken  the  key." 

"  And   who  are  you  ?  "  demanded    the 
voice,  the  knocks  ceasing. 
167 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

"  The  Chevalier  Paul  Jones,  beguiled 
to  this  house  and  robbed." 

"  The  Chevalier  Jones  !  "  exclaimed  the 
voice,  incredulously. 

The  chevalier,  or  better  the  captain,  as 
his  proudest  American  title  was,  was  known 
and  admired  throughout  Paris.  The  watch 
could  not  believe  it  was  he.  He  insisted 
he  was  Captain  Paul  Jones.  He  told  them 
to  try  the  rear  door,  by  which  he  believed 
one  of  the  men  had  escaped.  The  house 
was  on  the  corner  of  a  lane  turning  from 
the  Rue  Richelieu  into  the  adjoining  street. 
The  watch  found  easily  an  entrance  by 
which  the  man  in  the  house  had  escaped. 

Captain  Paul  Jones  now  had  no  diffi 
culty  in  proving  his  identity  to  the  captain 
of  the  watch,  who  recognized,  for  all  his 
bruises  and  torn  and  dirtied  person,  that  this 
was  really  the  redoubtable  American  sailor. 

One    man    had    fled    certainly.       The 

woman  who  had  admitted   Captain  Jones 

was  not  to  be  found.     The  house  had  no 

furniture  of  any  kind,  and  had  been  rented 

1 68 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

a  week  previously  by  an  unknown  man 
who  had  paid  for  six  months  in  advance. 
In  the  garden  the  one  fellow  was  found,  just 
recovering  consciousness,  and  recognized 
as  a  well-known  Parisian  desperado. 

This  fellow  would  give  no  explanation 
of  the  plot,  though  smartly  questioned  at 
his  trial.  Preserving  that  "  honor  among 
thieves  "  which  proves  that  some  robbers 
might  have  made,  under  other  circum 
stances,  excellent  and  honorable  soldiers, 
he  died  on  the  gallows  bravely  without  a 
word  of  confession. 

Captain  Paul  Jones,  now  having  quite 
recovered  that  pretty  wit  which  had  stood 
him  in  such  good  stead  on  many  another 
occasion,  drove  at  once  to  the  minister, 
the  Comte  de  Vergennes.  Insistent  on 
seeing  him,  he  succeeded,  and  told  the 
whole  affair  over,  with  his  own  belief  that 
it  had  been  a  plot  to  abduct  him  and  carry 
him  to  England.  Monsieur  de  Vergennes 
concurred  with  him  that  the  object  of 
justice  might  be  gained  best  by  keeping 
169 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

the  affair  entirely  private,  at  least  for  some 
days.  He  congratulated  Captain  Jones 
on  having  escaped  as  he  did  with  only  a 
few  bruises.  Captain  Jones,  on  his  part, 
said  that  he  was  glad  that  he  had  not  suf 
fered  the  loss  of  the  sword  the  king  had 
given  him,  which  had  been  found  in  one 
of  the  rooms  of  the  house. 

When  Monsieur  de  Vergennes  ques 
tioned  him  narrowly  about  what  had  led  to 
the  appointment,  he  said  he  could  not 
reveal  the  person's  name.  When  Mon 
sieur  de  Vergennes  was  insistent  that  the 
facts  might  be  laid  properly  before  the 
minister  of  police,  Captain  Jones  was 
equally  reticent.  He  could  not  tell. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  acknowledged  Monsieur  de 
Vergennes,  since  he  was  of  the  ever  gal 
lant  race ;  "  I  partly  comprehend,  and  I 
suppose  I  cannot  shake  your  obstinacy." 

Monsieur  de  Vergennes   could    not ;  for 

Captain    Paul    Jones,  though  this   woman 

certainly  had   tried  to   carry  out  the   most 

hideous  plot  against  him,  did  not  consider 

170 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

it  quite  fair  to  punish  her  as  if  she  were  a 
man.  Besides,  he  shrewdly  guessed  that 
she  would  swear  that  her  name  had  been 
used  without  her  knowledge,  that  the  con 
spirators  had  simply  played  on  Captain 
Jones'  well-known  vanity  about  women. 
Nor,  indeed,  as  a  matter  of  pride,  did  he 
care  to  have  himself  shown  in  the  ridicu 
lous  light  which  a  statement  of  the  exact 
truth  to  Monsieur  de  Vergennes  would 
put  him. 

But  he  had  his  own  notion  of  a  fine 
private  revenge. 

The  next  day  no  soul  in  Paris  except 
his  servant  saw  Captain  Paul  Jones.  He 
told  the  servant  to  tell  all  callers  that  his 
master  had  gone  away  the  previous  eve 
ning  without  explanation,  and  had  not 
returned.  In  the  mean  time  he  took 
needed  rest  —  as  much  as  he  could  in 
his  meditation  over  revenge,  and  with  the 
painful  bruises  he  had  received.  One  eye 
was  black,  and  that  side  of  his  face  badly 
swollen. 

171 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

The  next  evening  following  was  that 
of  the  great  ball  at  Versailles  I  have 
mentioned.  In  the  midst  of  the  festivities 
who  should  appear  with  black  eye  and 
swollen  face  but  this  gardener's  son 
of  Arbigland  in  Kirkcudbrightshire,  the 
famous  knight  of  his  most  Christian  ma 
jesty's  Order  of  Merit,  Captain  Paul  Jones. 

Everybody  smiled.  Mr.  Franklin,  who 
was  our  minister  then,  looked  grave. 
What  ridiculous  row  had  Captain  Paul 
Jones  been  involved  in  now,  to  present  so 
disreputable  an  appearance  ? 

But  though  ladies  tittered  before  whom 
earlier  in  the  week  he  would  have  shone, 
our  great  captain  had  no  vanity  on  this 
occasion.  He  had  only  eyes  for  Madame 
Le  Fevre.  In  his  pocket  was  the  fatal  note. 

He  was  rewarded,  nay,  had  almost  posi 
tive  proof.  Madame  Le  Fevre  nearly 
fainted  when  she  saw  him. 

He  walked  straight  to  her,  when  she 
was  by  an  evident  effort  recovering  her 
self-possession. 

172 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

"  The  heat  here  is  oppressive,  Captain 
Jones,"  she  said. 

"May  I  have  a  word  with  you, 
madam  e  ?  " 

She  scanned  him  closely.  The  little 
captain  looked  dangerous.  Relying  on 
her  wiles,  she  thought  it  best  to  humor 
him,  to  cajole  him  out  of  his  bad  humor. 
Some  beautiful  women,  in  the  conceit  of  a 
thousand  successes,  believe  they  can  do 
anything  they  wish  with  men ;  and  was 
not  woman  the  one  vulnerable  part  in 
Captain  Jones's  armor  ? 

So,  now  smiling,  though  she  was  fear 
ful  enough,  she  let  him  take  her  aside  into 
one  of  the  recessed  windows  looking  out 
on  the  great  fountains  of  the  inner  court 
of  the  palace. 

"  And  what  have  you  to  say,  cheva 
lier  ?  "  she  began. 

"  To  commiserate  madame  on  her  dis 
appointment  at  finding  I  did  not  take  a 
certain  pleasant  excursion  to  England." 

Despite  her  knowledge  of  the  great  need 


The  Pretty  Wit  of 

of  keeping  her  self-control  to  meet  him 
squarely,  Madame  Le  Fevre  trembled. 

"  Monsieur  —  "  she  began. 

"  I  have  your  note,"  he  began. 

"  My  note  !  Give  it  me,  monsieur !  give 
it  me,  I  pray  !  Surely  you  would  not  torture 
me  so  —  you  would  —  " 

"  Ah,  madame,"  said  Captain  Jones, 
"  you  have  confessed  —  and  —  I  despise 
you  —  who  —  with  all  your  charms,  your 
greatness,  your  virtue,  which  I  believe  in, 
are  yet  more  despicable  than  the  poorest 
girl  who  passes  on  the  street." 

"  You  would  not,  monsieur  ?  "  cried  the 
woman,  in  her  desperation. 

"  Madame,  if  you  appear  at  court  after 
to-night,  I  will  tell  all.  I  swear  I  will  tell 
all." 

Madame  Le  Fevre  began  to  weep. 

Now,  Captain  Jones,  in  telling  me  this 
story  himself,  confessed  that  he  never 
could  withstand  a  woman's  tears,  and  this 
woman,  despicable  as  she  was,  yet  had 
made  him  in  love  with  her  charms.  So, 
174 


Captain  Paul  Jones 

suddenly,  impulsive  as  he  was  in  such 
affairs,  Captain  Jones  took  the  letter  from 
his  pocket,  and  tore  it  into  pieces. 

"  Madame,"  said  he,  "  I  fight  men  — 
not  women,  though  I  confess  they  are 
vastly  more  dangerous.  I  believe  it 's  a 
brave  man's  part  to  use  no  force  against  a 
woman  enemy,  but  simply  to  despise  her 
—  to  hold  her  less  than  the  dirt  under  his 
feet." 

And,  turning  on  his  heel,  he  left  her. 

In  telling  the  story  long  after,  Captain 
Jones  said  that  no  one  in  Paris  ever  had 
from  him  the  true  version  of  this  adven 
ture,  and  as  I  believe  he  esteemed  it 
wrong,  as  he  said,  for  a  brave  man  to  fight 
a  woman,  however  dangerous  she  might 
be,  I  readily  believed  him. 

NOTE.  —  The  lady  in  the  case  afterwards  married 
the  Earl  of  Whittlesey,  a  circumstance  which  may 
explain  her  motive  in  the  affair.  Her  son  is  that 
young  Lord  Whittlesey  who  lately  distinguished 
himself  in  the  Peninsular  Campaign. 

F.  MIDDLETON,  Naples,  January,  1813. 

175 


The  Meddling  Hussy 


12 


177 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

I  REMEMBER  my  man  was  smug- 
faced,  appearing  to  all  the  world  the 
reputable  citizen,  round,  fat,  a  most  politic 
and  non-committal  fellow,  and  I  wondered 
whether  I  might  not  have  gone  wrong. 
But  the  direction  was  plain,  "  Philip 
Roland,  Merchant,  5  Pearl  Street,  back 
of  Fraunces's  Tavern,"  and  here  was  the 
man  in  his  shop,  looking  at  me  narrowly 
over  the  gold  rims  of  his  spectacles.  The 
Guards'  Band  was  playing  on  the  Bowling 
Green,  for,  though  November,  it  was  a 
warmish  Indian  summer  evening,  while  he 
gloated  over  the  letter,  regarding  me  ever 
and  anon  in  the  dim  light  of  the  lantern 
that  stood  on  the  counter.  He  was  a 
dealer  in  women's  gewgaws,  and  esteemed 
as  good  an  American  as  any  man  in  New 
179 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

York.  I  had  heard,  indeed,  so  much  to  this 
effect  that  now  I  was  uneasy  to  think  per 
haps  I  had  but  put  my  neck  in  the  noose. 
Had  not  the  general  been  mistaken  in  the 
man  ?  Why  did  he  pause  so  long  ?  I 
moved  nervously,  while  before  the  window 
passed  some  people  returning  from  the  play 
at  the  Theatre  Royal  on  John  Street. 

The  royalist  dandies  had  refitted  that 
little  red  theatre,  closed  by  Congress  with 
a  view  to  improving  the  public  morals,  and 
plays  had  been  writ  for  it  by  Major  John 
Andre.  I  shuddered  as  I  thought  of  him, 
for  it  was  not  so  long  since  the  scene  at 
Tappan ;  and,  for  all  I  had  experienced  in 
the  last  days,  causing  me  to  regret  my 
mission,  my  softness  hardened  at  that 
name.  As  it  happened,  as  if  to  empha 
size  the  thought,  a  link  boy  passed  just 
then  before  Mistress  Susannah  De  Lancey 
and  Major  Williams  of  the  Artillery,  who 
had  been  Andre's  intimate. 

My  vis-a-vis  noted    my  uneasiness  out 
of  his  cunning  eyes. 
180 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  There  be  spies  and  spies,"  said  he. 
"  But  you,  sir,  surprise  me.  There  lay 
every  reason  why  you  should  return  to  the 
cause,  and  yet  you  risk  your  neck  appar 
ently  as  merrily  as  a  boy  after  a  bird's 
nest." 

"  Eh,  yes,"  said  I,  gathering  heart. 
"  And  I  propose  to  have  the  bird  to-night 
at  eleven  when  he  walks  in  the  garden  back 
from  Burns's." 

"  Does  he  walk  then  in  the  garden  ?  " 
said  he,  peering  at  me. 

u  Yes,  an  uneasy  conscience  —  " 

"  Ah,  has  he  that  ?  " 

"  If  he  have  not,  my  friend,  I  propose  to 
make  him  uneasy,  should  you  have  your 
boat  at  the  foot  of  the  lane  exact  at  eleven. 
I  loosed  part  of  the  paling  at  the  end  of 
the  garden,  and  there,  behind  the  boards, 
which  he  now  can  wrench  off  in  a  trice, 
is  Jem  Hawkins.  You  know  him  ?  " 

"  And  you,  sergeant  ?  "  said  he,  curi 
ously,  and  looking  about  lest  the  walls 
had  ears. 

181 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  I,  master,  will  stroll  out  of  the  tavern 
as  debonair  as  you  please.  I  shall  knock 
our  traitor  over  the  head.  Jem  will  break 
through  the  paling,  and  we  will  carry  him 
to  your  boat." 

"  Should  you  be  stopped  ?  " 

"  Humph,  we  have  but  to  say  we  are 
sailors  from  the  c  Anne  Marie '  taking  a 
drunken  comrade  aboard.  Once  in  the 
boat  we  shall  pull  for  Hobock,  where 
Major  Harry  expects  us." 

I  thought  exultantly  of  this  point  in  the 
programme  so  well  outlined,  could  it  be 
carried  out ;  for  it  meant  my  restoration 
to  the  old  esteem  among  my  comrades, 
who  now  must  be  holding  me  the  most 
dastardly  deserter. 

"  You  have  a  glib  tongue,"  my  shop 
keeper  said  doubtfully  when  I  had  ended. 

"  It  has  persuaded  Sir  Henry,  my  old 
friends,  and  their  Brevet-Brigadier  traitor 
Arnold,"  I  boasted ;  "  now  it  wants  but 
your  beat." 

He  reached   forward,  as  if  with  enthu- 
182 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

siasm    out    of    keeping    with    the    former 
suspicion. 

"  You  risk  death  and  so  do  I,  should 
we  be  seen  together.  The  boatman  shall 
be  there  at  eleven  o'clock." 

I  was  sure  of  him  now,  this  person  no 
one  suspected,  but  who  was  one  of  those 
agents  by  whom  Washington  was  kept 
conversant  with  occurrences  in  New  York. 
I  relied  implicitly  on  the  other  man  Haw 
kins,  who  was  a  hostler  at  "  Fraunces's 
Tavern,"  for  he  had  proven  his  honesty 
by  seeing  that  my  letter  had  reached  the 
general,  telling  him  exactly  who  had  been 
implicated  with  Arnold  in  that  damnable 
plot ;  and  now  all  that  was  left  of  the 
mission  was  to  catch  the  traitor. 

This  was  my  fifth  evening  as  an  Ame 
rican  deserter  and  king's  man  ;  and  it,  I 
said,  should  not  pass  without  me  putting 
my  hands  on  him  for  whose  avarice  Andre 
had  suffered. 

Yet,  as  I  strode  about  the  street  corner 
past   one   of  Mayor  Matthew's  watch,   I 
183 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

sickened  of  the  attempt  for  the  hundredth 
time.  I  thought  of  how  much  they  had 
left  me  to  do,  how  great  a  sacrifice  of 
good  name  I  already  had  made,  and  how 
little  wit  I,  indeed,  had  to  redeem  it. 

Before  the  ruins  of  Trinity  Church, 
standing  out  sepulchrally  in  the  darkest 
November  night,  I  went  in  to  sit  on  one 
of  the  benches  that  had  been  built  there  at 
General  Pattison's  suggestion,  shortly  after 
the  great  fire ;  for  the  British  policy  was  to 
gain  favor  by  making  the  town  life  agreeable 
for  those  who  could  be  caught  by  pleasure. 

There  in  the  dark  I  ran  over  the  whole 
unpromising  phases  of  the  enterprise  :  how 
five  days  before,  my  commandant,  Major 
Lee,  had  summoned  me  to  tell  me  that  the 
general  had  asked  him  for  a  man  who 
would  dare  risk  everything  to  gain  infor 
mation  of  how  the  Arnold  plot  ran  and  of 
those  implicated;  one  who  would  even 
dare  kidnap  the  traitor  in  the  very  enjoy 
ment  of  his  safety.  The  man  who  so 
dared  must  appear  to  desert  from  Tappan. 
184 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

This  was  asking  much :  my  honor  among 
my  comrades  and  the  risk  of  a  spy's  death 
from  the  British ;  and  yet,  young  fool  of 
twenty-three  that  I  was,  I  accepted. 

I  can  see  that  low  room  now,  in  the 
De  Witt  house  in  Tappan,  the  general's 
anxious  face,  Major  Harry's  bold  eyes. 

I  turned  my  mare  through  the  picket 
line  and  gave  her  free  head  when  the 
patrol  challenged,  dashing  over  the  moist 
roads,  for,  as  bad  luck  would  have  it,  the 
rain  had  blotted  out  the  ruts,  leaving  the 
mare's  footprints  patent  to  the  pursuers, 
for  the  farrier  put  the  same  mark  on  the  left 
forward  shoe  of  all  Major  Lee's  horses. 

For  the  moment,  I  believe,  they  hesi 
tated,  dumfounded  that  so  faithful  a  soldier 
as  I  should  suddenly  imitate  Arnold.  In 
all  the  disaffection  there  never  had  been 
a  desertion  from  that  corps.  Who  can  be 
trusted  ?  I  could  fancy  them  muttering. 
I  knew  that  Major  Lee  would  delay  them 
all  he  could  ;  but  he,  too,  must  carry  out 
the  play.  He,  too,  must  appear  astounded 
185 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

that  I,  who  always  had  proven  faithful, 
should  all  at  once  become  among  the  most 
faithless.  I  thought  all  this  while  the  mare 
bore  me  over  the  road  toward  Bergen,  for 
I  designed  to  hail  the  king's  patrols  at 
Paulus  Hook. 

But  with  all  the  delay  I  had  but  little 
the  start.  Soon  I  heard  them  after  me, 
and  the  mare  almost  spent.  The  sky 
lightened.  The  mare  seemed  to  be  going 
even  slower,  and  I  knew  as  I  came  to  the 
forks  on  the  hill,  which  is  by  the  "  Three 
Pigeons"  inn,  above  Bergen,  that  they 
probably  would  catch  me  before  I  could 
make  the  stone  bridge  below.  Nay,  turn 
ing  in  my  saddle  I  could  see  in  the  darkish 
dawn  Cornet  Middleton  heading  the  pur 
suers,  and  hear  his  loud  hallo. 

At  the  forks,  within  a  stone's  throw  of 
the  "  Three  Pigeons,"  for  a  moment  I 
deliberated.  Should  I  have  my  reputation 
all  lost  for  nothing  ?  They  probably 
would  shoot  me  as  it  was,  nor  could  they 
ever  believe  me  an  honest  man. 
186 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

Only  for  a  moment  did  I  hesitate,  you 
may  believe,  before  turning  directly  down 
the  slope  by  Elizabeth  Point  to  the  river, 
and  there,  as  luck  would  have  it,  was  a 
patrol.  I  sprang  from  the  mare,  and 
waded  through  the  marsh  into  the  river, 
hallooing.  Just  then  the  pursuers  per 
ceived  my  detour,  and  a  bullet  came  sing 
ing  around  my  ears.  I  pushed  out  beyond 
my  depth,  and  the  men  in  the  boat,  com 
prehending  the  situation,  pulled  me  in,  fir 
ing  and  shouting  derisively  to  my  old 
comrades,  whose  curses  reached  me. 

I  was  taken  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  who, 
examining  me  closely,  ended  by  believing 
in  my  sincerity,  as  in  faith  the  desertion 
was  plain  enough,  and  that  one  from 
Major  Lee's  corps. 

As  we  had  thought  would  be  the  case, 
he  recommended  me  as  an  honest  fellow 
to  General  Arnold,  who,  too,  had  run  to 
the  king's  side.  I  could  detect  a  certain 
detestation  in  Sir  Henry's  tone  when  he 
spoke  of  Arnold,  who  had  received  his 
187 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

;£i  0,000  and  his  Brigadiership  as  the  price 
of  his  service,  who  yet  was  sincerely  dis 
liked,  more  because  the  affair  had  cost  the 
army  Major  Andre,  I  believe,  than  for  any 
other  reason. 

I  reported  that  morning  to  the  new 
British  Brevet  Brigadier,  at  3  Broadway, 
in  the  old  ball  rooms  over  "  Burns's 
Arms." 

I  do  not  know  what  I  had  expected  of 
the  man.  I  had  heard  so  much  to  his 
discredit.  I  saw  an  agreeably  mannered 
gentleman,  who  questioned  me  closely, 
and  in  the  end  believed  that  I  had  been 
persuaded  by  his  example. 

Strangely,  too,  he  rented  of  a  widow, 
Mistress  Warren,  whose  daughter,  Priscilla 
Warren,  I  once  had  made  furious  love  to 
in  Virginia.  A  plump,  fair-haired,  gray- 
eyed  girl,  Mistress  Priscilla's  greeting,  her 
congratulations  to  me  at  having  come 
over  from  rebellion  to  loyalty,  made  me 
for  a  moment  sicken  again  of  my  part. 

I  must  explain  this  to  show  how  that 
1 88 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

which  followed  came  about.  Nor  did 
Benedict  Arnold  fail  to  treat  me  with  fur 
ther  consideration.  He  promised  to  obtain 
me  a  commission  in  a  legion  of  American 
loyalists  in  time  to  join  the  expedition  Lord 
Howe  was  then  preparing  to  send  to  the 
Virginia  capes.  In  the  mean  time,  other 
decent  lodging  being  hard  to  find,  he  had 
permitted  me  to  take  a  room  at  the 
Widow  Warren's. 

In  fact,  all  had  gone  exactly  as  the  plan 
had  been  laid.  I  had  communicated,  as 
I  have  said,  with  General  Washington, 
showing  him,  as  I  had  it  from  Arnold 
himself,  who  appeared  to  trust  me  impli 
citly,  the  full  extent  of  the  treachery,  and 
the  names  of  the  few  persons  in  any  way 
implicated.  I  have  been  told  that  this 
information  first  gave  the  general-in-chief 
heart  to  believe  there  remained  those  he 
could  trust ;  and  that  the  major-general 
he  suspected  was,  after  all,  not  in  the 
affair. 

And  now  the  rest  was  all  plain.  Arnold 
189 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

would  stroll  in  the  garden  to  quiet  his 
nerves  before  bed.  My  desperate  fellow 
would  hide  behind  the  loosed  paling,  I 
could  be  sure,  at  the  appointed  hour.  I 
was  now  equally  sure  of  Master  Roland 
having  the  boat  in  readiness  at  the  foot  of 
the  lane.  Yet,  as  I  thought  of  it  all,  I 
felt  dismayed.  I  looked  up  to  the  ruined 
tower  of  Trinity,  almost  praying  to  keep 
my  courage  warm.  I  decided  to  take  a 
tankard  of  beer  at  the  tavern.  The  night 
was  dark  enough,  and  now  began  a  cold 
drizzle.  Long  since  the  Guards'  band 
had  stopped  on  the  Green.  What  could 
be  better  than  such  a  night,  made  for  the 
adventure  ? 

At  last  the  clock  ticked  near  the  time 
when  General  Arnold  would  descend  for 
his  stroll  in  the  garden.  Even  now  I  knew 
my  man  Hawkins  was  waiting  in  the  lane. 
I  paid  my  reckoning  and  turned  for  a  mo 
ment  into  the  street. 

The     mist    was    clearing.        Certainly 
General  Arnold  would  take  that  walk  to 
190 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

get  some  air  before  sleep.  But  if  he  kept 
to  his  usual  custom  it  lacked  a  half  hour 
of  the  time.  To  avoid  possible  suspicion 
I  turned  into  the  tavern  and  up  the  stairs 
to  my  room.  I  intended  to  follow  the 
general  by  the  back  stair.  It  all  would  be 
easy  should  he  once  go  into  the  garden. 

But  at  the  head  of  the  stair  stood  my 
acquaintance,  Mistress  Priscilla  Warren, 
of  whose  mother  General  Arnold  rented. 
She  held  a  candle,  as  if  expectantly,  and 
I  am  bound  to  say  she  made  a  pretty  pic 
ture  at  the  stair  head.  I  recollected  how 
years  before  in  Virginia  I  once  had  made 
furious  love  to  this  very  girl. 

"  Jack  !     Jack  Champe  !  " 

"  Eh,  Priscilla.  And  why,  mistress,  are 
you  not  in  bed  ?  " 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  she,  blushing, "  I  've 
been  thinking  and  pondering." 

"  Of  a  lover  ?  "  said  I,  trying  to  phrase 
some  pleasing,  nonsensical  gallantry. 

"  Not  I,  sir,  of  no  man  but  of  you." 

"  Of  me,  Priscilla  ?  " 
191 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  Ah,  of  you,  who  have  made  the  whole 
town  believe  in  you ;  but  me  —  not  a 
whit." 

"  And  why  ?  "  said  I,  growing  impatient, 
for  I  heard  General  Arnold's  step.  "  I 
must  speak  to  the  general,  begging  your 
pardon." 

"  Why  ?  "  she  asked,  putting  the  candle 
close  to  my  face.  "  Liar,  you  are  not 
what  you  seem  !  "  Her  voice  had  changed 
so  suddenly  that  I  lost  my  wit. 

«  Priscilla  !  " 

"  You  never  deserted  General  Wash 
ington." 

"  Mistress  Priscilla  !  " 

"  You  are  here  a  spy  —  to  betray  Gene 
ral  Arnold." 

"  Ah,  mistress,  but  he  is  worse,"  said  I, 
with  sudden  earnestness. 

"  He  has  treated  you  kindly,  John 
Champe." 

"  You   have  the  fancy  of  a  silly  maid  !  " 
cried    I.     "  Let    me  go.     I   must    follow 
General  Arnold  into  the  garden." 
192 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

Again  she  raised  the  candle  a  bit.  From 
below  was  the  fiddler's  merry  jig. 

"  Why  ?  " 

I  trembled  under  those  gray,  question 
ing  eyes,  and  she  read  my  plot  as  easily  as 
I  had  told  her.  It  all  had  gone  well  up 
to  this  moment.  My  man  was  behind  the 
paling.  The  boat  waited.  Colonel  Lee 
across  the  river  expected  us.  And  here  this 
girl  had  in  some  way  found  the  intention. 

11 1  will  explain  later.     Now  —  " 

She  put  the  candle  on  the  table. 

"  I  will  go  with  you  into  the  garden." 

"  And  why,  unasked  ?  "  said  I,  trying 
to  treat  the  matter  lightly. 

At  this  she  pulled  from  her  bosom  a 
letter  in  Major  Harry's  own  hand,  with 
the  damning  evidence.  She  had  me  in  her 
power  as  neatly  as  she  could  wish.  I  had 
dropped  it  somewhere  in  the  house.  Curs 
ing  my  carelessness,  I  snatched  at  it,  when 
she  thrust  it  behind  her. 

"  Spy !  "  she  said,  as  if  I  were  less  than 
the  boards  under  her  feet. 
13  193 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  And  he  ?  "  said  I,  doggedly. 

"  But  does  it  lessen  your  blackness, 
coward,  —  you  who  return  to  your  friends 
pretending  you  are  converted  to  the  old 
opinions,  only  to  spy  ?  " 

"  Give  me  up,  then,"  said  I  at  last, 
defiantly.  "  Give  me  up." 

"  I  will  not  tell  a  soul,"  said  the  girl  at 
this. 

"  How  could  it  profit  you  ?  "  asked  I, 
trying  to  pacify  her. 

u  Nor  shall  I  let  you  hurt  a  hair  of 
General  Arnold's  head  —  neither  one  nor 
the  other." 

She  stood  there,  her  hands  thrust  be 
hind  her.  Suddenly  the  fiddler  below 
paused  in  his  air  and  left  us  in  silence. 

I  must  not  let  the  pretty  little  fool 
thwart  me  when  I  had  risked  so  much. 
No,  she  should  not.  The  general  was  in 
the  garden  ;  my  man  Hawkins  was  breath 
ing  hard  behind  the  paling,  waiting  the 
signal.  Every  moment  was  dear. 

u  He  may  be  traitor,  but  he  has  been 
194 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

kind  to  my  mother  and  to  me,"  she  went 
on.  "  You  shall  not  hurt  him.  If  he  be 
traitor,  was  he  not  before  one  —  to  the 
king  ?  Consider  that." 

I  did  not  answer,  revolving  the  prob 
lem  how  to  get  her  out  of  the  way, 
cursing  my  bad  luck  indeed  in  having 
dropped  the  luckless  letter  I  should  have 
burned. 

"  And  why,"  she  went  on,  taking  a  step 
nearer,  "  should  you,  Jack  Champe,  take 
further  risk  ?  You  are  back,  without 
odium,  in  the  king's  service.  You  have  but 
to  forget  your  purpose,  which  was  traitor 
ous.  You  have  before  you  a  finer  career 
than  the  rebels  can  offer." 

And  while  we  disputed  by  the  candle 
light  Jem  Hawkins  behind  the  paling  was 
wondering  at  the  lack  of  the  signal. 

"  I  am  pledged  to  Washington,  I  am 
with  the  United  States,"  said  I,  desiring  to 
be  rid  of  her. 

"  And  you    are    here    as  a  spy  ? "    she 
cried  again,  her  gray  eyes  flashing. 
195 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  For  all 's  fair  in  war,"  said  I,  watching 
her  that  I  might  spring  past. 

"  And  in  love,"  said  she,  blushing  I 
thought,  and  wondered  if  she  loved  not 
Benedict  Arnold,  whom  I  began  to  hate 
with  fierceness. 

"  But  wait,"  said  I,  "  Mistress  Priscilla. 
I  have  a  word  to  say  to  the  general  now 
in  the  garden.  Surely  there  can  lie  no 
harm  in  that  ?  " 

"  Ah,  I  know  you,"  she  answered  at 
this  defiantly.  "  You  have  some  design. 
I  '11  accompany  you." 

By  this  time  I  was  maddened.  Have  I 
not  said  how  much  every  moment  counted  ? 
A  bold  move  would  accomplish  it  still.  I 
was  not  to  be  foiled  by  this  hussy. 

So  I  pushed  her  aside,  went  through  the 
door  into  the  back  hall,  and  down  the 
steps  leading  to  the  garden. 

There  he  was,  pacing  restlessly  to  and 
fro.  Ah,  the  man  never  had  a  quiet 
moment  between  his  plots  and  his  re 
morse, —  for  I  believe  he  had  that.  Jem 
196 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

Hawkins,  I  was  certain,  was  waiting.  I 
could  carry  it  out  yet. 

But  the  girl  was  behind  me,  like  a  dog. 
I  was  sorry  for  a  moment  I  had  not 
throttled  her. 

"  General  Arnold  !  "  she  called  from 
the  foot  of  the  stair.  "  General  Arnold  !  " 

Before  I  could  get  to  him,  he  walked  too 
far  toward  the  house.  In  an  instant  he 
was  by  her.  I  saw  she  whispered  some 
thing  to  him.  Was  it  my  betrayal  ? 

For  a  moment  I  hesitated.  I  still 
could  run  for  it ;  but  should  I  escape, 
which  was  doubtful,  it  would  be  without 
my  prisoner.  For  the  moment  she  had 
foiled  me.  I  must  brazen  it  out,  deny 
her  charge. 

So  I  returned  to  the  upper  hall,  where 
they  were  talking.  She  looked  at  me,  not 
triumphantly.  I  was  surprised  how  pale 
he  was. 

"  Sergeant  Champe  wished  a  word  with 
you,  sir,"  she  said,  without  facing  me. 

How  could  I  explain  ?  I  thought  at 
197 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

once  of  some  story  connected  with  the 
duty  he  had  given  me ;  but  he  anticipated 
me,  saying  :  "  I  am  too  weary.  Wait  till 
morning.  You  will  receive  your  regular 
duty  then.  Good  night." 

He  extended  his  hand  gravely,  as  if 
treachery  had  made  us  equals,  and  walked 
to  his  room.  Outside,  perhaps,  Hawkins 
still  waited.  But  the  chance  was  lost  for 
the  night.  The  girl  had  outwitted  me. 
Why  had  I  not  killed  her  ? 

As  he  left  us  alone  she  understood  my 
rage,  for  she  said  quietly,  "I  did  it  to 
save  you." 

"  You  have  not  told  him  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word ;  you  can  still  serve  the 
king." 

"  Fool !  "  I  muttered,  as  people  do  when 
only  they  are  the  fools.  I  heard  her  sobs 
and  hurried  from  her,  fearful  what  she 
might  tempt  me  to. 

Nor  could  I  sleep.  I  dared  not  send 
word  to  Hawkins,  or  to  the  boatman  at 
the  end  of  the  lane.  Across  the  river  at 
198 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

Hobock  Colonel  Harry  waited  vainly.  Be 
cause  of  this  girl  I  was  still  held  a  traitor 
by  my  comrades ;  and  it  appeared,  in 
deed,  as  if  they  must  so  regard  me  till 
the  end  of  the  chapter.  For  as  I  tossed 
restlessly,  while  it  was  yet  pitch  dark, 
there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the 
orderly  shouting,  "  Up,  sergeant,  in  a 
hurry.  You  have  duty.  The  general's 
expedition  pulls  anchor  at  five  for  the 
Virginia  capes  ! " 

I  saw  beyond  peradventure  then  that  I 
had  failed  dismally.  I  should  have  no 
other  chance  at  my  man  now,  while  if  I 
wished  to  avoid  the  spy's  death,  I  must 
keep  up  appearance  and  serve  as  a  British 
soldier. 

Outside  in  the  hall  was  the  girl,  her 
eyes  red  by  the  candlelight. 

"  Forgive  me  ! "  said  she.  When  I 
was  silent  she  added,  "  I  did  it  for  you." 

"  For  him." 

"  For  you !  To  save  you  for  the 
cause." 

199 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  Faugh,"  said  I ;  "  I  despise  you  for  a 
meddling  hussy." 

Yet  I  thought  afterward  she  indeed  had 
not  betrayed  me.  That  was  certain.  I 
wondered  what  was  the  reason,  dismayed 
over  the  turn  of  the  adventure. 

For  here  was  I,  now  bound  for  Vir 
ginia,  as  earnest  a  patriot  as  ever  served 
in  the  war,  but  in  the  uniform  of  an  Eng 
lish  soldier,  and  commanded  by  the  very 
Arnold  whom  I  had  come  to  take. 

In  addition  the  weather  turned  dirty, 
and  I  suffered  the  worst  torments  the  sea 
can  inflict  on  those  so  indiscreet  as  to 
trust  to  its  fickleness.  Let  them  be  sail 
ors  who  will,  I  would  be  content  to  be  the 
humblest  land  lubber  rather  than  to  own 
all  the  fame  of  the  most  esteemed  admiral. 

I  remember  it  was  a  week  after  we  had 
made  a  landing  before  I  recovered  my 
heart  and  was  in  some  way  able  to  debate 
the  chance  of  escape  to  the  American 
lines.  I  had  become,  with  memory  of  that 
wretched,  discovered  letter,  as  cunning  as 
200 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

a  fox.  But,  despite  all  my  cunning,  the 
chance  never  presented  itself.  I  could 
not  hope  to  abduct  General  Arnold,  with  no 
man  whom  I  dared  trust  with  even  a  hint 
of  my  true  mission.  How  quickly  I  should 
be  worsted  ! 

Strangely,  I  did  in  my  false  position 
singularly  good  service.  I  was  commended 
again  and  again  when  least  of  all  did  I 
want  praise  for  a  part  I  detested.  That 
old  saying  of  the  mockery  in  the  way  of 
the  world  came  to  me  in  those  days : 
"  When  you  may  be  indifferent  to  success, 
lo  !  it  comes  to  you." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  remained  in  this 
inaction  some  three  months,  till  we  joined 
Lord  Cornwallis  at  Petersburg.  I  then 
was  detailed  to  go  with  a  division  in 
structed  to  intercept  some  reported  for 
agers  sent  out  by  Major  Harry  Lee. 

I  strained  my  ears  as  I  heard.      I  was 

arrayed    against    Major    Harry,    whom    I 

loved,   if  I  ever    loved    a   man,   both   for 

being    most    considerate    of  his    inferiors, 

201 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

and  always  the  dare-devil.     I  laughed  as  I 
thought  of  it  —  I  against  Major  Harry  ! 

Yet  it  was  not  so  comical  an  affair  in 
very  earnest.  Here  in  Virginia  I  was 
known.  One  day  an  old  woman  who 
had  heard  my  history  spat  at  me.  I  could 
not  blame  her. 

But  two  persons  I  hated,  Benedict 
Arnold  and  the  meddling  hussy.  I  thought 
I  might  kill  him,  and  so,  although  I  should 
certainly  be  hanged,  I  should  be  lauded  by 
my  old  comrades  as  a  hero,  after  all  these 
days  of  apparently  deserved  contempt. 

And  yet  I  could  not  find  courage  for 
this.  He  had  treated  me  from  the  first 
most  considerately.  I  could  not  stab,  or 
shoot  behind  his  back.  My  instructions, 
in  fact,  had  been  to  bring  him  in  alive,  not 
dead. 

I  thought,  perhaps,  of  the  meddling 
hussy  at  the  stair  head.  She  had  foiled 
me,  but,  in  some  curious  way,  she  equally 
had  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  kill  the 
man,  had  I  the  chance. 
202 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

With  all  these  conflicting  notions,  in 
the  service  where  I  appeared  what  I  was 
not,  what  more  natural  than  that  I  should 
try  a  foolhardy  escape  to  the  old  lines  I 
had  deserted. 

It  happened  one  evening  at  a  point  near 
the  Carolina  line,  when  on  that  expedi 
tion  I  have  described. 

I  broke  away,  much  as  I  had  at  Tappan ; 
but  this  time,  knowing  the  country  better 
than  my  pursuers,  I  managed  to  elude 
them  with  less  danger  to  my  skin. 

As  I  was  now  walking  my  horse  in  the 
direction  of  the  Congaree,  where  I  sup 
posed  Major  Harry  to  have  been,  I  stum 
bled  directly  on  one  of  his  pickets.  The 
man  brought  me  in,  covering  me  with  his 
musket.  And  then  suddenly  he  recognized 
me. 

"  Sergeant-Major  Champe,  the  de 
serter  ! "  he  cried,  at  first  incredulously, 
and  again  exultantly.  "  What  a  bird  I 
have  brought  down!" 

Others  by  this  time  had  gathered ;  and 
203 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

then  an  officer,  before  whom  a  black  car 
ried  a  lantern,  approached  over  the  half- 
frozen  ground.  It  was  early  March. 

"  Major  Lee  ! "  I  said,  for  by  some 
chance  I  had  fallen  in  with  no  less  a  per 
sonage.  "Major  Lee!"  (He  was  then 
Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the  Dragoons, 
though  always  "  major  "  to  me.) 

"  Where  are  you  ?  "  he  began  ;  and 
then,  leaping  from  his  horse,  he  cried, 
seizing  my  hands,  — 

"Champe!  " 

"Champe  who  failed  !  "  I  nodded,  shame 
faced.  The  men  stood  about  astounded. 
For  was  I  not  a  deserter  ?  The  major 
knew  their  thoughts. 

"Sergeant-Major  John  Champe  is  this 
gentleman,  who,  like  Captain  Hale,  to 
serve  his  country  took  on  the  disguise  of  a 
spy  among  the  British." 

When  suddenly  through  that  little  de 
tachment  of  my  old  comrades  a  cheer 
went  up,  and  I  believe  that,  after  all  I  had 
imagined  and  suffered,  this  scene  in  the 
204 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

Carolina  swamp  was  the  happiest  of  my 
life. 

"  But  how  did  you  fail,  man  ?  "  the 
major  asked,  when  we  rode  to  his  main 
division.  "  I  really  believed  you  would 
carry  it  out.  We  waited  at  Hobock  until 
too  late  for  any  possible  hope  of  your 
appearance." 

"  Because  of  a  meddling  hussy,"  I  said, 
my  heart  bitter  against  her. 

"  A  wench  ?  I  thought  not  that  of 
you." 

u  Eh,  but  you  must,"  said  I ;  and  I  told 
him  the  story. 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  he,  "  why  she 
did  n't  betray  you.  I  can't  understand  it 
unless  —  " 

"  Unless  ?  " 

"  Unless  she  were  in  love  with  you," 
said  Major  Lee. 

"  Impossible,"  said  I,  forgetting  to  laugh. 
Why,  of  course  it  was  absurd,  although  I 
could  not  get  the  notion  out  of  my  head. 

At  his  headquarters,  where  my  old  com- 
205 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

rades,  who  now  knew  the  whole  story, 
made  much  of  my  deed,  although  in  faith 
it  was  failure  enough,  the  major  told  me 
he  could  not  take  me  back  into  my  old 
company. 

"And  why?"  I  asked  hotly,  for  I 
thought  he  meant  that  my  failure  to  cap 
ture  Arnold  had  discredited  me  with 
him. 

"  Because,  Champe,  I  like  you  too  well 
to  have  you  risk  capture  by  the  British, 
who,  before  the  clock  could  tick,  would 
hang  you  as  a  spy." 

I  told  him  I  cared  not  a  whit  for  the 
danger ;  that  I  wanted  to  fight  with  all  the 
strength  and  wit  I  had  left  after  the  false 

O 

part  I  had  played. 

"  Poor  Champe,"  said  he.  "  How 
badly  have  we  treated  you  !  But  after  all 
you  have  done  I  will  not  suffer  you  to 
risk  a  hair,"  he  repeated. 

When  I  was  insistent  he  said  finally 
that  he  had  no  option,  but  would  refer  the 
matter  to  General  Washington,  to  whom 
206 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

directly  I  was  despatched  by  General 
Greene. 

I  confess  I  was  anxious  when  I  came 
into  the  presence  of  that  Virginia  gentle 
man,  who  now  had  become  the  greatest 
among  the  Americans. 

"You  did  us  a  signal  service,  Captain 
Champe,"  he  said  kindly,  "  in  letting  me 
know  the  extent  of  Arnold's  treachery 
when  I  was  uncertain  of  every  one  about 
me,  and  it  must  appear  ungracious  of  me 
to  tell  you  that  out  of  regard  for  you  and 
your  most  excellently  good  service,  I  must 
retire  you  —  but  as  a  captain,  with  a  full 
captain's  pay." 

I  did  not  want  retirement.  I  cared  not 
for  the  new  grade,  nor  the  money,  though 
it  was  a  scarce  enough  commodity  in  those 
days. 

But  the  general  was  insistent.  And  in 
this  way  I  ceased  to  be  an  active  member 
of  the  army  of  the  United  States.  In  my 
forced  retirement  I  was  advanced  in  rank, 
yet  a  captain  without  hope  of  further  ser- 
207 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

vice,  at  least  against  the  British,  whom  I 
dearly  wanted  to  fight  in  some  capacity, — 
a  captain  without  a  company. 

Now  about  this  time  I  had  a  strange 
letter  brought  through  the  lines  from  New 
York,  and  written  by  no  less  a  person  than 
she  who  had  spoiled  my  enterprise,  Mis 
tress  Priscilla  Warren.  She  begged  me 
never  to  give  the  British  the  chance  of 
catching  me,  for,  as  surely  as  her  name 
was  Priscilla,  they  would  hang  me  up  as  a 
spy.  I  wrote  her  I  had  been  told  that 
several  times  ;  but  I  feared  the  British  no 
more  than  I  did  meddling  Tory  maids. 

The  hussy's  impudence  was  strange. 
But  for  her  meddling  I  certainly  had  had 
my  plan  to  seize  General  Arnold  carried 
out.  As  it  was,  because  General  Washing 
ton  was  insistent  on  my  retirement,  and  as 
I  had  failed  most  dismally  in  this  attempt,  I 
had  not  its  success  to  console  me  for  the 
loss  of  the  soldier's  career  I  loved.  I  had 
staked  all,  like  a  gambler,  on  one  issue  and 
lost. 

208 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

But  I  could  not  get  the  meddling  girl 
out  of  mind,  and  thinking  over  the  matter 
and  considering  that  perhaps  after  all  she 
had  imagined  it  for  my  good  —  as  pos 
sibly  it  would  have  been  from  a  worldly 
point  of  view,  —  to  have  remained,  what 
I  seemed  then,  a  British  soldier,  —  think 
ing  of  the  possibility  of  Major  Lee's 
conjecture  about  the  reason  for  her  curi 
ous  conduct,  I  resolved  to  see  her 
again. 

But  it  was  not  until  after  the  peace  that 
I  had  the  chance,  when,  hearing  she 
remained  a  spinster,  I  decided  to  leave 
Kentucky,  where  I  had  taken  up  some 
land,  to  see  what  manner  of  woman  she 
had  become. 

I  must  acknowledge  in  the  few  years 
she  had  faded,  and  yet  I  found  her  strangely 
attractive.  She  appeared  embarrassed  at 
seeing  me. 

"  You  must  detest  me  above  all  the  rest 
of  the  world,"  said  she. 

"  I  did,"  said  I,  frankly. 
H  209 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  You  did  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  don't  now,  Mistress  Priscilla,  for  I 
believe  you  honestly  imagined  by  meddling 
you  could  keep  me  a  king's  man.  In  the 
event  it  might  have  been  better.  I  might 
have  been  richer." 

"  Yes,"  said  she.  "  I  think  I  even  was 
right,  Jack  Champe." 

"  I  am  not  accustomed,  Mistress  Pris 
cilla,  to  women  who  will  take  the  trouble 
you  did  to  set  a  man  right,  although  it  was, 
from  the  point  of  honor,  a  wrong  course, 
which  I  could  not  adopt.  I  believe  you 
thought  it  for  my  good." 

"  There  be  many  women  who  would 
have  done  so  much,"  said  she. 

But  I  was  firmly  persuaded  there  was 
and  is  but  one ;  and  holding  this  persuasion 
and  believing  that  now  she  might  have  me, 
although  before,  when,  a  boy,  I  had  made 
violent  love  to  her  in  Virginia  she  had 
jilted  me,  —  believing  that  being  a  spinster 
now  rather  well  along  she  might  not  refuse 
me,  although,  in  faith,  I  had  little  enough 
210 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

money,  I  was  persuaded  to  ask  her  to 
marry  me. 

"  Me,  Captain  Champe  !  Are  you  not 
crazy  ?  "  said  she,  demurely,  at  this  request 
of  mine. 

"  Not  I,  Mistress  Priscilla.  I  have  a 
neat  enough  wit  left  to  know  the  material 
for  a  good  wife." 

"  Oh,  but,  captain,  I  'm  so  old  and  ugly. 
Why  did  you  not  ask  me  when  I  was 
young  ?  " 

"  I  did  when  we  were  both  young,  years 
since,  in  Virginia." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  said  she. 

"  I  tried  then,  but  you  jilted  me  j  have 
you  forgot  ?  I  supposed  a  woman  never 
forgot  whom  she  jilts." 

"  Oh,  do  you,  captain  ?      Or  whom —  " 

"  Or  whom,  mistress  ?  " 

"  Or  whom  she  loves?  " 

"  Oh,  then,"  said  I,  "  I  might  as  well 
return  to  Kentucky,  for  I  see  the  jig  is  up." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  said  she.  "  I  believe  I  even 
will  go  with  you,  captain." 

211 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

"  Are  you  jesting  again,  as  you  did  when 
a  girl  in  Virginia  ?  "  asked  I,  doubting 
her. 

"  Eh,  jesting,  Captain  Champe,  as  a 
spinster  may  who  catches  at  perhaps  her 
last  and,  indeed,  I  believe,  her  best  chance." 

I  confess  the  outcome  of  the  matter 
was  most  curious,  for  during  those  days 
when  I  was  tossing  on  the  sea  on  the 
journey  to  the  Virginian  capes,  I  should 
have  held  him  as  mad  as  the  maddest 
March  hare  who  had  told  me  I  should  try 
to  marry  this  meddling  hussy  to  gain  peace 
of  mind. 

But  if  the  ways  of  God  be  strange,  that 
way  of  His  which  is  called  woman's  is  the 
strangest.  If  any  one  were  to  blame  for 
this  termination  of  the  affair  of  the  med 
dling  hussy,  surely  it  was  none  other  than 
Major  Lee,  who  first  had  suggested  to  me 
an  apparently  impossible  reason  for  her 
conduct  when  she  had  spoiled  all  my  plan 
for  catching  the  traitor.  From  regarding 
the  reason  all  impossible,  I  began  to  ques- 
212 


The  Meddling  Hussy 

tion  if  after  all  there  might  be  some 
ground  for  holding  it  possible.  The  step 
from  supposition  to  experiment  is  not  a 
long  one,  as  Dr.  Franklin  himself  has 
attested.  Yet  I  must  confess  I  thought  I 
was  only  a  silly,  imaginative  fool  for  my 
pains,  till  her  words  showed  that,  strange 
as  it  may  appear,  Major  Lee  had  under 
stood  her  without  ever  having  seen  her. 

Nor,  in  the  end,  although  I  have  blamed 
her  in  all  this  account  for  having  spoiled 
for  me  the  outcome  of  a  good  adventure, 
was  I  so  unfortunate  as  I  had  supposed. 
For  if  I  did  lose  chance  of  further  distinc 
tion  as  a  soldier  through  following  out  the 
plan  General  Washington  proposed  to  me, 
I  learned  in  the  end  by  this  very  adven 
ture  that  a  woman  who  takes  enough 
interest  in  you  to  meddle  with  your  mat 
ters,  even  to  the  point  of  turning  them  all 
topsy-turvy,  may  make,  for  the  very  reason 
of  that  interest,  not  so  bad  a  wife. 


213 


Part  II 
Tales  of  Personages 


The  Loyalty  ofWilliam  Douglas 


217 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

I 

WHEN  William  Douglas,  the  dis 
senter,  came  to  Loch  Leven,  in 
answer  to  his  aunt,  Lady  Douglas's  sum 
mons,  he  held  the  Lady  of  the  Scots,  the 
Romanist,  a  wanton. 

Yet  for  all  that  the  Queen  of  the  Scots 
had  forfeited  her  sovereignty,  and  was  the 
instrument  of  Romanish  intrigue  against 
the  peace  of  Scotland,  he  felt  a  certain 
awe  when  he  first  accompanied  Ferguson, 
the  keeper,  to  do  his  cousin  George  Doug 
las's  office  as  page  before  her. 

Was  not  a  princess  different  from  other 

folk,   and    this    one,    an    enticing    witch  ? 

But  with  family  pride  strong  in  his  heart, 

and  with   shame  over   his  cousin's  weak- 

219 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

ness,  he  was  determined  not  to  be  be 
witched. 

The  keys  creaked  in  the  great  door 
while  Ferguson  whispered  under  his  breath  : 

"  Beware,  Master  Douglas,  and  be 
strong  in  the  Lord.  If  she  were  queen 
once,  she  ever  was  the  wicked  woman. 
The  blood  of  those  her  arts  have  slain 
calls  out  on  her." 

She  was  by  the  window,  where,  at  her 
feet,  her  companion,  Mistress  Seton,  was 
reading  in  the  French  tongue.  Her  hands 
supported  her  chin,  and  her  eyes  were 
toward  the  free  sky.  Her  face,  thin  and 
worn,  was  framed  by  lightish  brown  hair, 
that  morning  braided  carelessly  in  long 
folds  over  her  shoulders.  The  hazel  eyes 
seemed  to  hold  ready  hate  or  love  or 
indifference.  Douglas  was  to  see  this 
charming  face  flushing  with  excitement ; 
now  exquisite  fair,  it  was  of  clear  pallor 
and  the  eyes  underlined  with  a  dark  pen 
cilling.  Her  figure  was  daintily  moulded, 
and  showed  its  slender  proportions,  through 
220 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

the  folds  of  the  gown,  which  was  of  some 
gray  stuff,  plainly  made.  She  wore  no 
jewels,  save  a  single  ruby  on  a  ribbon  at 
her  throat.  A  pretty  lady,  like  any  other, 
the  young  gentleman  decided,  and  yet, 
decisions  sometimes  changing  so  rapidly 
where  women  are  concerned,  he  put  that 
away,  and  thought  she  was  more. 

When  rising  with  a  yawn  she  faced 
them,  he  saw  she  was  of  medium  height, 
and  looked  gracious  and  amiable,  with  a 
manner  that  had  exactly  the  right  degree 
of  unconscious  familiarity  with  inferiors, 
yet  could  not  forget  she  was  some  great 
lady.  If  under  her  eyes  were  bluish 
pencillings,  and  on  her  face  the  least  sug 
gestion  of  lines,  she  still  had  a  certain 
girlishness  which  her  voice  confirmed,  — 
a  woman's  voice  with  a  maiden's  quality. 
She  looked  the  lady  that  might  be  sad  in 
the  morning,  with  the  old  zest  of  gayety 
by  noon.  He  felt  she  was  noting  him 
carefully,  and  under  her  lashes  was  seeing 
him  all,  body  and  soul.  He  thought  of 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

what  the  preachers  of  Knox's  following 
declared  her  —  "  Jezebel ;  "  "  the  heathen 
ish  creature ;  "  "a  siren  !  " 

Yet  after  his  second  visit  in  the  duty  of 
page,  he  began  to  say  to  himself,  "  Surely, 
she  is  a  pleasant  lady  who  has  been  much 
belied." 

But  there  were  other  moods,  when  she 
paced  the  room's  length,  no  longer  a  charm 
ing  gentlewoman,  with  the  courtesies  of  the 
court,  but  more  some  caged  tigress,  ready, 
if  the  bars  were  but  down,  to  rend  and 
tear,  looking  cravingly  into  the  open,  out 
of  her  window,  where  birds  and  men 
seemed  to  her  to  do  as  they  listed.  Then, 
sometimes,  keeper  and  page  did  not  see 
her  at  all,  only  heard  from  the  next  room 
sobs,  when  Mistress  Seton  or  Mistress  Jane 
Kennedy  would  very  civilly  dismiss  them. 

Yet  perhaps  at  breakfast  the  morning 
after,  the  queen  would  appear  with  a 
laughter-filled  face,  although  her  eyes 
might  be  hollow,  and  her  gayety  suggested 
the  effort  to  force  forgetfulness. 
222 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

And  in  this  wise  did  Master  William 
Douglas  come  to  know  and  think  differently 
of  this  princess,  never  seeing  her  alone,  scarce 
noticed  by  her  or  her  ladies,  and  always 
under  the  keeper's  eye.  But  he  carried 
thought  of  her  to  his  sport  with  the  men 
at  arms,  or  to  the  hours  he  had  in  a  skiff 
on  the  lake,  or  to  the  castle  chaplain  who 
told  his  congregation  again  and  again  the 
tale  of  the  complete  wickedness  of  man 
kind,  the  dreariness  of  this  life,  the  flames 
and  the  devils  that  await  us  in  the  more 
painful  future. 

Now  about  this  time  the  queen  at 
tempted  to  escape  by  donning  the  gar 
ments  of  the  laundress  who  brought  her 
linen  from  the  village. 

William  Douglas,  on  the  castle  terrace 
that  afternoon  training  a  falcon,  heard 
below  the  keeper's  gruff  cry,  —  "A  too 
neat  ankled  laundress  by  half !  "  for  though 
closely  muffled,  Mary  Stuart's  foot  had 
betrayed  her.  Yet  for  all  her  disappoint 
ment  at  failure,  and  the  sarcastic  gibes 
223 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

Lady  Douglas  cast  at  her  then,  the  de 
jected  prisoner  carried  herself  with  the 
simple  dignity  the  Stuart  princess  always 
had  in  face  of  adversity.  No  circum 
stances  did  so  much  to  change  William 
Douglas  entirely  to  her  cause  as  this  adven 
ture.  Hardly  more  than  lad,  the  queen 
may  have  read  it  in  his  eyes.  Did  she, 
she  appeared  to  be  looking  beyond  him,  or 
to  notice  him  no  more  than  the  stone 
blocks  of  the  flooring.  Nor  did  her 
ladies,  who  before,  having  no  one  else,  had 
thought  him  worth  an  occasional  smile, 
now  seem  to  be  aware  of  his  presence. 
Finally  he  found  their  conduct,  and  par 
ticularly  that  of  the  queen,  almost  unen 
durable,  although  it  was  natural  enough. 
He  was  decided  to  drop  a  note  into  the 
queen's  lap  as  he  passed,  but  that  was  too 
risky,  and  might  only  lead  to  his  being  re 
moved  from  his  post.  Thinking  over  the 
riddle,  at  last  one  object  came  to  have  a 
fascination,  its  possession  dearer  than  am 
bition  or  love  or  fortune,  —  that,  the  key- 
224 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

ring  Master  Ferguson  had  at  his  girdle ; 
and  then  our  young  gentleman  of  the 
Douglases  began  almost  unconsciously  to 
curry  favor  with  the  keeper :  tried  the  art 
of  a  player ;  maligned  the  queen,  to  the 
keeper's  delight,  while  inwardly  cursing 
him  ;  used  the  canting  phrases  Scot  dis 
senters  affected,  and  slily  discussed  the 
ology,  which  was  a  common  topic. 

But  always  those  keys  were  in  their 
place  at  the  keeper's  girdle,  unless  he 
should  knife  him  behind. 

Following  out  this  wish  to  be  near  the 
keys,  he  sat  talking  one  night  until  near 
ten  o'clock  with  this  Irish-Scot  keeper, 
who  was  expounding  some  theological 
point,  Douglas  agreeing  with  him,  the 
time  devouring  with  his  eyes  the  bunch 
of  keys.  A  windy  night  it  was  of  scurry 
ing  clouds,  through  which  the  moon  would 
break,  sending  an  occasional  shine  across 
the  guard-room  floor. 

At  last  the   keeper  became  drowsy,  de 
claring  he  would  go  to  bed. 
15  225 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

u  But  I  could  show  this  more  clearly  to 
you,  Master  Douglas,  if  I  had  my  copy  of 
Knox's  sermons." 

"  If  you  '11  suffer  me,  I  will  go  to  your 
chamber  with  you,  Master  Ferguson, 
and  bring  the  book  that  I  may  con  the 
point." 

"  That  you  may,  Master  Douglas." 

So  he  followed  him  out  of  the  guard 
room  to  the  door  of  his  chamber,  that  the 
keeper  threw  open,  putting  the  lantern  he 
carried  on  the  floor,  while  he  fumbled  for 
the  book.  The  gleam  from  the  candle 
was  shot  back  to  the  youth's  eyes  by  the 
flaming  key-ring.  The  pistol  in  Fer 
guson's  belt  caught  him  under  the  belly, 
and  rising,  he  pulled  it  out,  placing  it  on 
the  board  above  the  fireplace.  With  sud 
den  impulse  Douglas  reached  toward  it ; 
but  turning,  he  slammed  the  door,  that 
made  clamorous  echo. 

"  Eh,  what 's  that,  Master  Douglas  ?  " 
said  the  keeper,  the  book  of  John  Knox  in 
his  hand. 

226 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  The  wind,  Master  Ferguson,  the 
wind,  I  declare." 

Leaping  forward,  he  grasped  the  pistol 
from  the  board  above  the  fireplace  and 
faced  the  other. 

"  If  it  please  you,  Master  Ferguson,  the 
castle  keys  ?  " 

There  was  no  premeditation.  He  had 
not  dreamed  of  such  an  action.  Its  fool- 
hardiness  would  have  dismayed  him.  The 
keys,  the  mad  desire  to  have  them,  pos 
sessed  him  like  one  of  the  devils  Christ 
cast  out. 

Never  was  man  more  dumfounded. 

"  Are  ye  mad  ?  "  he  gasped. 

"  The  keys,  sirrah  !  "  said  Douglas. 

At  this  Ferguson  muttered,  "  'T  is  Jeze 
bel's  arts,"  and  so  exclaimed.  With  a 
blow  he  sent  the  pistol  flying  from  Doug 
las's  hand,  caught  him  by  the  back,  casting 
him  with  one  thrust  into  the  corner.  The 
pistol,  by  fortune's  power,  was  not  dis 
charged.  The  thick  walls,  the  closed 
door,  kept  the  scuffle  unheard.  Ferguson 
227 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

gazed  at  him  in  a  heap  in  the  corner,  as 
he  might  be  some  worm. 

"  'T  is  you,  master,  following  George 
Douglas's  way.  But  you  're  a  madman." 

He  spoke  sense.  Douglas  had  yielded 
his  secret.  His  plight  could  not  be  worse. 
A  frenzy  of  unreasoned  rage  possessed 
him,  and  Ferguson's  contempt  gave  a 
chance. 

He  knew  not  how  suddenly  he  was  on 
his  feet,  how  he  had  sprung  on  the  man, 
bearing  him  to  the  floor  and  choking  him. 
The  fellow  could  not  cry  out ;  his  eyes, 
staring  Douglas  in  the  face,  seemed  to 
start  from  their  sockets,  while  his  face 
blackened  in  the  lantern  light.  Had  he 
choked  him  to  death  ?  He  did  not  pause 
to  query,  but,  relaxing  his  grasp,  loosed 
the  bunch  of  keys.  As  they  fell  rattling 
on  the  floor,  Ferguson  groaned,  moving 
convulsively.  Quickly  Douglas  undid  his 
girdle,  passed  it  through  his  mouth,  and 
gagged  him  beyond  sound.  Seizing  a 
deerskin  from  the  bed,  he  cut  it  into  thongs 
228 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

with  the  hunting-knife.  With  one  thong 
he  bound  his  hands  behind  his  back,  with 
the  other  tied  his  feet.  At  the  moment 
his  eyes  opened.  He  had  not  choked  his 
breath  entirely  out  of  him.  "  Thank  the 
God  of  the  Pope  and  of  Knox  alike," 
Douglas  muttered. 

"  I  Ve  the  keys,  old  psalm-singer,"  said 
he.  "  Don't  stare  at  me  or  struggle.  My 
plight  is  desperate ;  I  must  free  the  queen, 
or  die  for  it.  Farewell,  Master  Ferguson." 

Ferguson's  eyes  glowed  desperation. 
Douglas  wondered  for  a  moment  how  his 
frenzy  had  the  sense  to  choke  him.  By 
no  other  way  could  he  have  kept  him  from 
outcry,  or,  indeed,  mastered  him.  If  he  had 
waited  for  a  plan,  he  never  should  have 
done  what  he  did.  Ferguson  rolled  about 
the  floor,  making  the  moan  of  pain-bearing 
despair. 

Taking  the  keys,  Master  Douglas  picked 
up  the  lantern  with  the  other  hand,  opened 
the  door,  closed  and  locked  it,  and  drop 
ping  the  keys  in  his  pocket,  strode  down 
229 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

the  corridor  into  the  great  hall.  Instead 
of  turning  to  his  chamber,  he  opened  the 
door  to  the  corridor  of  the  North  Tower. 
Something  like  the  frenzy  poets  tell  of 
seemed  to  guide.  He  closed  this  door 
behind,  locked  it,  and  followed  the  narrow 
passage  to  the  farther  entrance,  where  the 
sentinel,  who  'd  been  sleeping  on  the  floor, 
sprang  up,  with  staring  eyes  and  gasping 
voice. 

"  Sleeping,  honest  Jock  ?  " 
"  Not  I,  master.     You  saw  not  aright." 
« I  'm  not  blind." 

"  A  man  may  grow  weary,  master." 
"He  may  get  a  dozen  lashes." 
"  Ay,  master,  but  you  '11  not  tell." 
"  It  's  my  duty.      But  I  '11  try  to  for 
get. 

"  I  came  from  Master  Ferguson  by  my 
Lady  Douglas's  order,  to  carry  a  drug  to 
the  queen,  who  is  ill.  The  apothecary 
but  now  brought  it  from  the  village." 

In  evidence   of  authority,  he  displayed 
the  keys,  at  which  Jock  gazed  in  doltish 
230 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

amazement.     Pushing  him  aside,  Douglas 
unlocked  the  door. 

"  Now  do  you  remain  here  by  the  open 
door,  while  I  ascend  the  tower  to  the 
queen's  apartment.  No  one  can  pass  you." 

"  Not  a  soul,  master,"  said  he,  as  if 
reassured. 

Lantern  in  hand,  he  went  up  the  stairs 
to  the  door  of  the  apartment,  which  he 
unlocked,  closing  the  outer  and  knocking 
at  the  inner  door.  Again  he  knocked. 
At  last,  after  a  space,  was  Seton's  voice  : 

"  Who  may  be  there  at  this  hour  ?  " 

"I,  mistress, —  Will  Douglas." 

"  You,  master  ?      What  want  you  ?  " 

"  Word  with  the  queen." 

u  Her  Majesty  has  retired." 

"  I  must  see  her." 

"  What  mean  you  ?  " 

"  God  help  us  !  Ask  not  my  meaning, 
but  wake  her  !  " 

"  Master,  what  treachery  is  this  ?  I  '11 
not  open." 

"  Then,  mistress,  you  waste  my  life." 
231 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

He  heard  the  queen  interrupting  :  — 

"  What 's  this,  Seton  ?  " 

"  I  don't  comprehend,  your  Majesty, 
what  treachery  they  now  are  at." 

Douglas  whispered  through  the  keyhole  : 
"  Oh,  your  Grace,  I  'm  here  to  free  you. 
I  've  gagged  and  bound  the  keeper  and 
stolen  his  keys.  We  have  but  a  moment 
to  try  for  the  open.  If  we  are  caught,  I 
shall  be  killed,  and  you  !  I  beg,  your 
Grace,  hasten  !  " 

"  Wait  I  " 

He  counted  the  moments  until  the  door 
opened,  and  the  queen  and  her  lady  were 
in  the  outer  room.  Her  gown  was  hastily 
thrown  on. 

u  Forgive  me,  Master  Douglas,  I  thought 
you  but  a  silly  boy  —  Seton,  a  cloak  !  " 

"  But  I  remain  !  "  said  Mistress  Seton. 

"  I  '11  not  leave  you  !  " 

"  You  must,  your  Grace.  They  can 
not  hurt  me.  If  I  stay  I  can  pretend 
when  they  search  that  you  are  in  the  inner 
room." 

232 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  They  '11  believe  it.  I  like  your  wit, 
mistress,"  said  Douglas. 

"  That  she  has  wit,  Master  Douglas,  I 
know ;  that  you  had  such  readiness,  I 
never  suspected.  Forgive  me  !  I  shall 
reward  you  if  I  escape.  God  forbid  that 
an  interest  in  my  fortune  may  curse  you, 
too.  I  hate  to  leave  you,  Seton." 

"  It 's  better  so,"  said  the  other. 

For  a  moment  the  queen  bent  her  head 
on  her  companion's  shoulder,  and,  suddenly 
raising  her  face,  she  kissed  her  lightly. 

"  On,  Master  Douglas,"  said  the  queen's 
lady  then.  "  You  're  no  boy,  but  a  man 
after  my  heart." 

"  I  have  one  to  settle  below,  mistress," 
said  he,  noting  her  in  the  candle  glare. 

Closing  the  outer  door,  the  queen  came 
after.  Half-way  on  the  stair,  he  stopped 
her,  while  walking  down,  as  if  with  great 
boldness,  he  threw  back  the  door  below. 

"  Jock,"  to  the  guard. 

He  closed  the  door,  lest  Jock  should  see 
the  queen,  and  put  the  key  in  the  lock. 
233 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  I  have  delivered  the  drug." 

"  Yes,  master.  But  is  it  not  strange 
that  Master  Ferguson  came  not  himself?  " 

"  Strange  it  is,"  said  Douglas,  fumbling 
at  the  lock.  "  This  key  will  not  turn. 
Will  you  try  it,  Jock  ?  The  jamb  is 
rusted,  I  deem." 

"  Yes,  master." 

As  he  turned  to  the  lock,  Douglas  put 
the  lantern  on  the  floor,  and  whipping  out 
his  knife  from  the  scabbard,  and  with  a 
strong  blow,  thrust  him  through  the  back. 
With  a  groan  the  fellow  fell  over,  while 
a  stream  of  blood  burst  over  Douglas's 
hand.  The  man's  distorted  face  came 
before  him  afterward  o'  nights.  But  he 
had  no  other  way,  and  it  was  the  queen's 
cause. 

The  door  was  pushed  back,  and  she 
stood  there,  the  cloak  on  her  arm. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?  " 

Douglas  thought  she  would  faint. 

"  The  blood  !  —  the  fearful  blood  !  — 
Not  the  first  that 's  been  shed  for  me  ! " 
234 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  Your  Grace." 

« I  'm  cold." 

Poor  Jock  lay  in  a  heap  on  the  floor, 
his  life  blood  still  spurting.  Douglas  took 
the  mantle  from  the  queen,  and  wrapt  it 
around  her. 

"  Mind  him  not." 

He  tried  to  support  her;  for  now  he 
was  resolved  they  should  get  away. 

"  No,  Douglas,  I  can  walk  as  easily  as 
you  for  freedom's  sake.  But  the  poor 
wretch,  —  he  brings  so  many  memories." 

She  seemed  to  sob,  and  to  control  her 
self,  for  her  voice  became  dry  and  hard. 

"  We  '11  go,  master.     Lead  on." 

He  knew  the  way.  Had  he  not  studied 
every  turn  during  the  weeks,  when  seeking 
a  means  of  aiding  her,  —  every  nook  and 
cranny  ? 

So  he  led  as  easily  as  it  were  day,  down 
the  passage  to  the  great  hall,  where  he 
opened  the  door,  which  creaked  on  its 
hinges.  He  dared  not  close  it  behind,  but 
went  on,  the  narrow  slits  of  the  walls 
235 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

guiding.  The  door  to  the  corridor  of  the 
postern-gate,  he  opened  more  carefully.  It 
did  not  creak  as  the  other.  He  took  the 
queen's  hand  lest  she  should  stumble. 

The  place  was  as  still  as  the  death  he 
had  wrought  in  the  passage  to  the  North 
Tower.  But  at  the  gate  he  was  made  to 
pause,  having  left  the  keys  in  the  door 
to  the  Tower.  Under  his  breath,  he 
cursed.  And  here  the  queen,  in  that  mo 
ment  of  perilous  waiting,  showed  the  Stuart 
spirit. 

"  But  no  blood,  Douglas,  even  though 
they  take  us,"  she  added,  as  she  bade  him 
take  that  dangerous  walk  back.  In  the 
passage  was  the  gleam  of  the  lantern,  and 
the  dead  man  in  his  blood.  How  grisly 
he  seemed  ;  how  he  mocked  him  !  —  he 
with  whom  he  oft  had  laughed.  And  now 
never  another  stupid  jest  from  the  doltish 
brain.  And  he'd  killed  him!  But  —  he 
had  the  keys  at  last.  He  must  get  away 
from  that  thing,  the  jeering,  bloody  face. 
Back  he  stirred. 

236 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

At  the  door  to  the  hall  were  steps. 
The  watch  was  passing.  He  could  hear 
voices,  a  scurrilous  jest.  Yet  they  did  not 
guess  his  presence  in  the  gloom,  and  the 
clangor  of  their  boots  on  the  paving  was 
gone  with  a  closing  door,  and  their  laughter 
over  the  good  story.  In  a  moment  he  was 
after  them  in  the  great  hall,  turning  away 
into  the  passage  to  the  postern-gate. 

The  key  creaked  in  the  gate,  and  they 
were  out  in  the  mist,  the  gate  closed  and 
locked  behind.  The  glare  of  the  moon 
shine  over  the  terrace  and  the  water  troubled 
Douglas.  Any  one  who  listened  could 
pick  them  out  with  a  musket.  But  he 
laughed  since  he  had  the  keeper's  keys, 
which  held  Loch  Leven  locked.  But  no 
time  could  be  lost.  They  must  go  down 
to  the  bank  to  the  skiff,  which  he  saw  was 
exactly  where  he  had  left  it.  A  ladder  at 
this  point  led  to  the  landing.  And  while 
he  would  have  helped  her,  the  queen 
climbed  down  as  easily  as  if  she  were  a 
girl.  She  knew  full  well  to  her  capture 
237 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

meant  a  captivity  more  odious  than  before, 
while  to  him,  death. 

When  he  pushed  the  boat  the  pebbles 
rattled  enough  to  have  aroused  the  castle. 
He  gave  the  queen  his  hand,  but  she 
leaped  in  without  aid.  As  the  boat  glided 
into  the  open  loch  the  moon  was  hid  by  a 
scurrying  cloud,  and  loch  and  castle  held 
fast  in  mist  and  night.  Douglas  settled  to 
the  oars.  Then  at  last  the  queen's  voice 
came  to  him  softly, — 

"  The  sweet  air  !     The  freedom !  " 
"  I  would  wish  the  oars  were  muffled." 
As  if  to  prove   how   noisy  they  were, 
a  challenge  rang  out  from  Loch   Leven. 
Lights  passed  against  the  windows.     The 
alarm  clanged. 

"  They  have  heard,  or  Master  Ferguson 
has  loosed  his  bonds  !  "  said  he.  "  But  — 
ah,  they  're  locked  in  !  " 

Every  key  to  every  outer  gate  at  Loch 
Leven   was   on   that   key-ring   which    had 
fascinated  him.      Dear  key-ring  was  it  in 
deed,  which  not  only  had  given  the  means 
238 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

of  escape,  but  which  now  could  hold  the 
pursuit.  They  would  be  forced  to  batter 
down  a  door  before  they  could  be  after 
them.  No  wonder  that  it  had  been  his 
desire  so  long;  nor  strange  that  he  held 
it  up  before  the  queen's  eyes  gleefully, 
and  then  flung  it  far  out  into  the  lake, 
where  it  splashed,  and  where  doubtless  it 
lies  to  this  day,  rusted  in  the  service  of 
loyalty.  What  cared  he  now  for  the 
firing  of  the  gun  of  Loch  Leven,  or  the 
spent  balls  splashing  over  their  bow  ?  They 
could  not  see  them  in  the  welcome  gloom, 
nor  could  they  be  out  under  an  hour.  The 
gates  of  that  fortress  were  as  well  made  as 
any  in  all  Scotland. 

Pulling  on,  Douglas  found  all  at  once 
his  arm  hurting  much ;  for  in  some 
way,  —  likely  in  the  struggle  with  the 
keeper,  —  it  had  been  wrenched.  Every 
stroke  made  it  twinge.  Finally  he  began 
to  have  a  certain  joy  in  resisting  the  pain, 
which  was  the  pleasure  of  endurance.  The 
firing  continued ;  but  they  could  only 
239 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

conjecture  the  position  of  the  boat  in  that 
welcome  gloom,  and  they  began  to  find 
they  were  wasting  powder.  Douglas  could 
imagine  his  aunt,  her  gown  hastily  thrown 
on,  spending  her  rage.  She  had  trusted 
him,  and  he  had  been  untrustworthy,  but 
for  the  queen. 

"  To  the  Edinboro'  road  ?  Do  you 
know  the  landing  there  ?  " 

"  Well,  your  Grace." 

"  And  the  sign  of  the  Deerhound  ?  " 

"  A  half-mile  in." 

"  A  good  Scot  mile,  master.  Our  friends 
are  there.  I  had  the  word  in  the  laundress's 
linen." 

By  this  time  hard  pulling  had  brought 
them  close  in  shore,  where  he  trusted  to 
the  sedges  to  shadow  them.  He  thought 

D  o 

to  follow  the  shore  to  a  spot  near  the 
Edinboro'  road.  The  obscuring  cloud  was 
passing.  Bushes  brushed  the  skiff's  sides. 
He  thought  he  knew  the  waters,  but  found 
the  boat  scraping  ;  it  grounded.  When, 
springing  over  and  pushing  out  again,  he 
240 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

took  the  oars,  the  moon  reached  out,  cast 
ing  a  sheen  over  the  waves,  that  danced  in 
a  little  wind.  Loch  Leven  showed  out 
darkly  across  water,  where  was  not  a  boat. 
The  only  danger  was  from  the  noise  of  the 
guns  having  attracted  a  passing  troop  of 
the  regent.  Equally  would  it  warn  the 
queen's  friends  that  something  was  hap 
pening  in  the  castle. 

Douglas  thought  he  should  have  to  skirt 
the  lake  under  the  bushes.  It  would  have 
been  the  height  of  folly  to  have  ventured 
into  that  open  space,  to  invite  the  marks 
men  of  Loch  Leven,  or  to  excite  the  in 
terest  of  those  in  the  village,  or  chance 
passers  on  the  highways. 

He  had  been  pulling  the  skiff  without  a 
word  with  his  companion,  only  noting  in 
the  moonshine  the  outlines  of  her  figure, 
her  disordered  hair,  from  which  the  cloak 
had  fallen. 

"  Douglas  ?  " 

"  Your  Grace  ?  " 

"  How  have  you  dared  this  ?  " 
16  241 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  You  are  queen." 

"  But,  master,  there  is  a  king,  my  son  ?  " 

"  Your  Grace,  why  should  I  side  with 
this  lord,  or  that,  or  with  Lord  James 
Stuart,  when  you  are  Mary  Stuart,  the 
queen  in  need  ?  " 

"  You  were  taught,  Douglas,  I  was  a 
criminal  who  have  forfeited  my  right." 

"  I  saw  your  Grace  in  distress." 

"  I  never  once  suspected  you  would  go 
to  this  extreme.  I  thought  you  only  a 
page  of  the  Douglases,  I  confess,  master, 
and  ask  pardon." 

11  Your  Grace,  it  does  not  become  you 
to  say  such  things  to  me.  I  have  only 
done  as  others." 

"  But  they  never  have.  Your  cousin 
tried,  but  failed." 

"  I  may." 

"  We  will  not  consider  failure  yet.  But 
lest  I  never  may  have  chance  again,  master, 
I  wish  to  explain  to  you  these  charges.  I 
cannot  think  you  would  believe  them  en 
tirely.  To  you,  Douglas,  I  would  speak, 
242 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

although   it    is    not    the    queen's    part    to 
explain." 

For  a  moment  she  paused,  while  the 
bushes  bent  under  the  wind,  the  oars 
dipped,  a  wild-fowl  called  from  the  marsh. 

"  A  young  girl,  my  Douglas,  came  from 
the  French  court,  where  pleasure  is  almost 
duty,  to  austere  Scotland,  where  of  late 
some  have  held  it  sin.  Many  aspired  to 
this  princess's  favor  and  love.  If  I  — 
this  girl  queen  —  was  thoughtless,  I  at 
first  intended  no  evil.  When  I  found  my 
mistake,  I  hated  those  I  had  tricked  with 
fancies.  Darnley,  whom  I  thought  a  hero, 
after  all  was  imbecile ;  Rizzio  but  a  senti 
mentalist,  and  Castelar  —  ?  " 

"  And  Bothwell  ?  "  asked  he  in  his  in 
terest,  forgetting  he  had  no  right  to  ask. 

"  I  fear  him." 

But  she  added  :  — 

"  I  fear  no  man  !  I  am  queen  !  I  will 
have  blood  for  blood,  eye  for  eye  !  " 

He  had  known  this  mood  in  the  castle, 
when  she  would  not  see  the  keeper. 
243 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  Those  who  have  helped  me,"  she 
went  on,  more  gently,  "  shall  have  reward. 
I  will  have  my  own  again.  Yet  —  oh, 
Douglas,  I  am  the  unhappiest  lady  ever 
was  born.  So  many  who  have  served  me 
have  suffered  bitterly." 

"  The  queen  shall  have  her  own  again  !  " 

"  She  shall,  for  she  will.  And  I  am 
free,  and  in  this  bonnie  land  thousands 
are  ready  to  die  for  us.  Life  is  sweet  as 
this  brave  air.  Men  still  love  me,  and  I 
may  have  some  wit  left." 

The  queen  talked  thus  to  William 
Douglas,  because  of  her  excitement  more 
than  from  any  intention  to  make  of  him  a 
confidant. 

He  reached  a  place  where  he  thought  a 
landing  prudent. 

Taking  his  hand,  she  stepped  to  shore, 
where,  pushing  a  way  through  the  thick 
bushes,  they  came  out  on  the  expanse  of 
the  moor,  reaching  then  up  to  the  en 
closure  of  the  Deerhound. 

The  queen  trudged  on  with  her  bundle, 
244 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

light-heartedly  to  appearance  as  a  servant 
lass  who  may  be  out  with  her  lad  for  the 
harvest  dance. 

"  I  see  you  take  the  way  across  the 
moor  because  we  there  are  less  likely  to 
meet  any  one." 

"  Yes,  I  have  no  weapon,  your  Grace." 

"  Your  knife  —  "  she  began. 

"  I  left  it,"  said  he,  "  hum,  hum,  in 
Jock,  the  guard." 

He  spoke  thoughtlessly,  and,  as  has  been 
the  case  with  us  all  a  thousand  times, 
would  have  given  anything  to  have  had  the 
words  unsaid  ;  for  his  companion  lost  her 
gayety  with  the  word.  Her  voice  had  a  sob. 

"  My  friend,  don't  bring  to  me  the  past 
and  its  dead." 

He  felt  the  lout,  and  tried  to  murmur 
some  poor  apologetic  explanation,  until  she 
interrupted  with  laughter, — 

u  No,  you  cannot  make  me  saddish. 
Across  the  moor  we  go,  master." 

And  she  led  the  way,  humming  a  little 
French  air. 

245 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  That 's  a  gay  song,  Master  Douglas, 
out  of  keeping  with  Scotch  austerity." 

"  The  Deil  's  sometimes  behind  their 
gravity,  your  Grace,"  said  he,  trying  to 
affect  a  lightish  manner. 

"  Yes,  horns  and  all.  I  've  seen  him 
behind  one  of  these  dissenting  ministers, 
again  and  again.  Even  John  Knox  ac 
knowledged  i  there  's  not  so  much  harm  in 
a  bonnie  time  as  in  a  bad  heart,  but,'  he 
added,  l  your  dancing  will  blacken  your 
heart.'  Eh,  Douglas,  mayhap  he  was 
right.  How  silent  you  are." 

u  I  was  wishing  for  a  sword." 

"  How  strange  it  is  that  you  who  have 
been  brave  should  tremble.  Come,  my 
master,  a  little  farther,  and  we  shall  be  at 
the  Deerhound." 

He  did  not  answer,  for  he  had  fancied 
he  saw  shadows  like  those  of  men :  fearful 
lest  some  one  might  spring  out  of  the 
bushes,  and  maddened  to  think  how  pow 
erless  he  should  be  against  some  passer 
who  certainly  would  be  armed  to  the  teeth. 
246 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

He,  who  in  Queen  Mary's  time,  carried 
life  in  an  open  way,  was  likely  to  have  his 
right  to  it  challenged  at  any  moment  by 
highwaymen,  or  his  clan's  enemy.  The 
queen,  to  give  him  heart,  again  laughed. 

"  Have  you  not  done  that  which  the 
others  failed  in  ?  Are  we  not  almost  with 
friends  ?  " 

"  Ay,  but  who  knows  who  their  bell 
and  cannon  may  not  have  stirred  up  ? 
And  —  you  know,  your  Grace,  a  bare 
hand  has  small  favor  with  bare  steel." 

"  It 's  a  Scot's  hand,  Master  Douglas  ! 
A  Scot  brain.  We  '11  have  no  more 
French  tunes  this  night.  I  know  a  better 
of  your  own  people." 

I  fancy  you  who  read  may  know  that 
ancient  song  of  the  Douglas',  —  a  catching 
tune  that  renders  a  Douglas  proud  of  his 
own.  Through  it  all  runs  the  clash  of 
steel,  and  the  cry  that  rendered  the  race 
warm  for  the  fray.  Now  it  came  in  a 
low  tone  from  a  lady's  lips,  and  it  gave 
this  Douglas  heart.  He  had  been  shudder- 
247 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

ing  at  what  he  had  done,  but  now  again, 
with  her  voice,  he  cared  not  at  all  whom 
he  should  face.  So  curiously  is  bravery  a 
matter  of  how  the  brain  —  or  is  it  how  the 
heart  ?  —  works.  On  that  lonely  moor, 
it  was  as  if  they  two,  queen  and  subject, 
had  the  world  to  themselves.  The  moon 
shine  makes  the  earth  so  different  a  place. 
A  man  makes  love  under  the  moon,  to 
hate  her  under  the  sun. 

A  stone  wall  marked  the  enclosure  of 
the  Deerhound,  and  revealed  the  hazard. 

"  You  can  trust  those  you  expect  to 
be  at  the  Deerhound  ?  " 

"  As  much  as  you.  Go  to  the  rear 
door.  Knock  thrice.  To  him  asking 
your  errand,  say,  '  Does  the  day  please  ? ' ' 

"  Yet  something  may  have  gone  against 
us." 

"  The  fortune  of  war,"  assented  the 
queen. 

"  And  do  you,  your  Grace,  remain  here 
in  the  shadow  of  the  wall  until  I  may  find 
how  our  fortune  may  be  at  the  inn." 
248 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  Wait,  master  !  " 

She  took  from  her  bosom  a  little  gold 
crucifix. 

"  I  must  pray,  Master  Douglas.  For 
sinners  was  Christ,  the  priests  tell  us.  I 
would  pray  to  him,  for  he  is  greater  than 
the  Virgin,  although  likely  she  understands 
us  women." 

He  had  bowed  his  head,  if  he  had  been 
taught  her  faith  was  idolatrous. 

"  Father,"  said  the  queen,  holding  the 
image  high,  "  I  pray  Thee  remember  us. 
Remember  James,  my  son.  Remember 
William  Douglas,  my  knight.  O  God 
of  Scotland,  and  of  Mary  Stuart,  do  Thou 
hear  the  prayer  of  us  who  without  Thee 
are  but  babes  in  a  wood." 

What  matters  a  man's  faith  so  much  as 
his  honesty  ?  A  long  time  yet  has  the 
world  to  learn  that  theology  is  naught 
more  than  a  trickery  of  phrases.  Her 
eyes  were  on  him.  Her  belief  in  the 
power  of  Him  the  little  image  symbolized 
to  help  her  for  all  her  faults,  impressed 
249 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

him  with  a  sort  of  ardor  of  entreaty  to 
Him.  He  had  been  man ;  had  suffered, 
been  perplexed.  He  could  understand  all, 
even  the  murder  of  Jock,  the  guard.  The 
words  of  the  ministers  of  the  New  Church 
rang  in  William  Douglas's  memory  ;  "  O 
God,  we  are  poor  sinners  indeed  !  " 

"  I  believe  you  are  one  of  the  dissenters, 
master  ?  They  'd  make  light  of  our 
ancestors'  faith.  Are  we,  poor,  conceited 
fools,  so  much  wiser  ?  " 

She  pressed  the  crucifix  to  her  lips,  and 
thrust  it  again  into  her  bosom.  She  held 
out  her  hand,  which  he  pressed  to  his  lips, 
and  turned  to  scale  the  wall  without 
another  glance  back,  yet  hating  to  leave 
her  so,  fearful  of  all  that  might  happen. 

Dropping  down  on  the  farther  side  of 
the  wall,  he  found  himself  in  the  stable 
yard  of  the  Deerhound.  No  one  appeared 
to  be  stirring,  although  lights  were  in  the 
upper  windows.  About  the  corner  of  the 
house  a  train  of  light  fell  across  the  highway 
beyond,  as  if  the  front  doors  were  wide. 
250 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

Finding  the  rear  door  without  difficulty, 
he  knocked  once,  twice,  thrice.  When 
there  was  no  answer,  although  he  fancied  he 
heard  voices,  he  again  raised  the  knocker, 
which  fell  into  its  metal  place  with  a  far- 
reaching  resonance.  Again  he  lifted  it, 
and  again.  Five  minutes  passed,  when 
there  was  rustling,  and  then  a  stumbling 
inside.  Somebody  fumbled  with  bolts, 
and  opened  the  door,  keeping  the  chain 
on.  A  withered,  wrinkled  face  looked  out. 

"  What  want  you  ?  "  questioned  a  husky 
voice. 

"  Good  dame,  does  the  day  please  ?  "  — 
albeit  a  night  of  the  full  moon. 

The  candle  near  dropped  from  her 
palsied  hand. 

"  Wait,"  she  said,  like  one  of  the  Fates. 

The  door  closed.  So  long  a  time 
passed  that  Douglas  was  about  to  turn 
back,  or  to  try  the  other  door.  Should  he 
be  greeted  by  the  Earl  of  Moray's  fol 
lowers  ?  He  could  hear  his  heart,  he  fan 
cied.  And  what  might  be  happening 
251 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

behind  the  stone  wall  ?  Was  she  in 
peril  from  he  knew  not  whom  ?  How 
easily  all  his  effort  up  to  this  might 
be  made  naught !  Nor  were  Lord  Moray's 
men  alone  to  be  feared.  There  were 
hundreds  of  others  during  that  unsettled 
period  who  might  be  at  the  Deerhound, 
inimical  to  the  cause.  You  may  believe 
it  was  almost  in  fright  he  heard  again  a 
rattling  of  the  bolts. 

This  time  the  chain  was  loosed,  when 
the  door  opened,  showing  the  dame,  and 
two  others  with  travel-stained  boots,  but 
so  closely  muffled  that  he  could  not  make 
them  out,  nor  their  style  of  dress.  One 
stepped  up  to  him  when  he  saw  the  eyes 
peering  from  the  cloak. 

"  Your  question  ?  " 

"  I  pray  you,  master,  does  the  day 
please  ?  " 

The  other  thrust  back  his  covering. 

"  Will  ?  Will  Douglas  !   We  heard  the 
cannon  Loch  Leven.      And  now  you  are 
here  with  that  question  ?  " 
252 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

Muffled  as  the  speaker  was,  William 
Douglas  could  not  be  mistaken  in  the 
voice. 

"  Ah,  cousin,"  said  he,  "  we  are  of  the 
same  political  complexion.  I,  as  you, 
serve  the  queen,  not  Moray." 

The  other  now  was  holding  a  lantern 
high,  peering  into  his  face. 

"  Blood  on  your  cuff?  " 

The  presence  of  one's  relatives  may 
lead  to  the  assumption  of  any  bravado  one 
may  own.  Before  our  kin,  most  of  all, 
we  like  to  show  best  our  prowess,  our 
cleverness,  our  bravery,  our  all.  So  was 
it  with  William  Douglas. 

"  I  killed  a  fellow  who  stood  in  my 
way." 

"  And  you  are  from  the  queen  ?  " 

"  I  came  with  the  queen." 

"  Eh,  boy  !  What 's  turned  your 
sense  ?  " 

"  Cousin,"  said  he  to  George  Douglas, 
"  get  me  ladder  with  which  to  scale  the 
wall,  and  you  will  understand  I  am  no 
253 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

liar.  Hurry,  fools  !  The  ladder,  I  tell 
you." 

"You  're  in  your  cups,  Will   Douglas." 

11 1  have  done  that  you  failed  in,"  he 
boasted. 

"  Your  Grace,"  he  cried. 

"  Master  Douglas  ?  " 

"  The  queen's  voice,"  said  he. 

George  Douglas's  incredulity  vanished, 
and  he  was  over  the  wall,  where  they 
found  him  kneeling  before  the  Lady  o' 
the  Scots. 

"  Kneel  not  to  me  who  owe  much  — 
yes,  almost  all  —  for  freedom  is  all !  —  to 
the  Douglases." 

"  We  were  your  gaolers." 

"  Who  have  freed  the  prisoner." 

"  Not  I,  but  my  cousin." 

"  But,  Douglas,  you  tried,  if  the  other  suc 
ceeded.  Come,  your  hand,  over  the  wall." 

He  did  this  gallantly  with  all  his  grace. 

But    William     Douglas     had    heard     the 

queen's  words.      He  had  succeeded  where 

his  cousin  failed.     The  cannon  of  Loch 

254 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

Leven  had  excited  the  inn,  keeping  the 
watchers  for  the  queen  awake.  How 
many  others,  unfriendly  to  the  restoration, 
might  have  been  aroused,  the  queen's 
gentlemen  then  could  only  conjecture.  If 
William  Douglas's  thought  to  leave  the 
castle  without  the  keys  to  unlock  its  doors 
had  delayed  the  chase,  yet  now  it  were 
imprudent  to  tarry  at  the  Deerhound. 

Nor  was  it  half  an  hour  before  the 
company  was  in  the  saddle,  shouting  under 
its  breath, — 

"  God,  and  the  queen  !  " 

With  the  steady  swing  of  cantering 
horses,  —  the  lighting  of  the  sky  in  the 
east,  the  stirring  of  men  and  women  along 
the  way  for  their  morning  tasks,  —  they 
saw  the  tower  of  a  queen's  fortress. 

But  in  the  Heart  of  William  Douglas 
was  no  gladness  ;  and  he  wondered,  for 
had  he  not  succeeded  ? 

Yet  the  Fate  that  makes  hearts  said, 
"  There  shall  be  no  success  without  a 
regret." 

2S5 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 


II 

And  he  who  was  the  envy  of  the  court 
that  rallied  quickly  under  the  queen's 
banner,  knew  this,  although  men  envied 
and  the  queen  favored  and  knighted  him, 
as  the  Douglas  whose  leaky  atoned  in 
degree  for  his  relatives. 

Queen  o'  the  Scots  was  she  again,  the 
color  in  her  cheeks,  gracious  to  all,  —  to 
win  back  that  she  had  lost. 

But  this  Stuart  princess  had  small  time 
to  think  of  minor  matters,  when  her  realm 
was  disjointed  and  all  her  wit  needful. 

And  William  Douglas  saw  her  rarely, 
and  then,  in  the  court  formality.  And 
again  he  was  vexed,  and  only  grew  happier 
when  in  the  fight  ;  and  there  were  many 
fights  in  those  days  when  Scotland  was 
divided  against  itself,  and  some  were  for 
the  queen  and  others  for  the  regent. 

And  Sir  William,  as  he  was  then  because 
of  the  service  he  had  done,  found  further 
256 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

distinction  which  was  not  to  his  heart. 
Yet  a  man  cannot  live  with  memories,  al 
though  he  may  wish  to  die  because  of 
them. 

And  since  he  would  forget,  he  tried  to 
make  love  as  well  as  to  fight.  In  the  little 
court  was  a  Mistress  Agnes  Frazer  —  who 
did  not  disdain  him  ;  and  the  queen,  hear 
ing  of  this,  sent  for  him. 

"  Ah,  Douglas,"  said  she,  smiling  pret 
tily,  as  she  could,  "  I  have  heard  of  you 
and  my  maid  Agnes." 

But  Douglas  was  silent. 

"  Are  you  embarrassed,  Douglas  ?  "  said 
she  then,  "  that  I  should  question  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Grace,"  said  he,  sturdily. 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  Because,  your  Grace,  I  have  but  tried 
to  make  love  to  Mistress  Agnes,  that  I 
might  forget." 

"  And  why  ?  "  asked  she,  for  they  say 
she  never  was  displeased  at  seeing  the  light 
that  then  was  in  his  eyes. 

"  Your  Grace,"  said  he,  u  I  must  forget 
17  257 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

I  'm  unhappy,  because  no  longer  can  I 
stand  between  you  and  danger." 

Then  she  twitted  him  on  practising  a 
courtier's  speeches,  but  noting  him,  she 
saw  that  same  look,  causing  her  to  turn 
away.  Yet  she  was  not  displeased. 

But  after  this  she  avoided  him,  so  that 
he,  thinking  he  had  displeased  her,  was  the 
more  downcast,  and  wondered  at  himself, 
why  he  should  be  so. 

But  he  found  that  Mistress  Frazer  could 
not  lighten  the  heart ;  nay,  even  the  battle 
field  failed. 

Then  again,  William  Douglas  took  the 
chances  others  held  foolishly  desperate,  yet, 
as  is  the  way  when  men  wish  him,  Death 
did  not  seek  him.  Death,  seeking  us  all, 
seldom  comes  when  he  is  called,  for  he 
too  seems  to  be  ruled  by  mockery. 

But  there  came  a  time  when  Death  was 
piqued  at  William  Douglas,  always  daring 
him.  For  after  many  days  —  when  the 
loyal  cause  seemed  again  hopeless  —  Wil 
liam  Douglas  was  sore  wounded  in  the 
258 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

thigh,  and  was  borne  away  among  others 
to  the  castle  where  the  queen  chanced  to 
be  lodged. 

And  one  of  her  ladies  came  to  the  queen, 
telling  her  among  the  wounded  in  the  bat 
tle  was  Sir  William  Douglas. 

And  the  queen  remembered,  and  went 
into  the  room  where  he  lay,  breathing 
hard. 

Being  told  he  must  die,  she  kneeled 
down  by  him,  and  said  softly,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes,  that  she  was  losing  all  her  leal 
subjects,  who  were  more  than  the  crown 
of  Scotland,  when  Douglas  opened  his  eyes 
on  her. 

He  appeared  comelily  boyish,  as  if  he 
were  still  in  his  promise ;  yet  the  queen 
knew  he  had  done  her  a  strong  man's 
service. 

"  Live,  Douglas,  for  me,  your  queen. 
Happiness  shall  be  yours.  You  shall 
marry  the  prettiest  lady  of  my  suite,  and 
shall  have  all  the  land  of  a  Scot  county." 

But  he  sighed,  as  with  his  hurt. 
259 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  Your  Grace,  you  're  fairer  than  all  the 
ladies  of  your  suite,  and  the  memory  of 
that  night  with  you  is  more  than  all  the 
lands  of  a  Scot  county." 

And  those  who  were  there,  saw  the 
queen  blush,  and  say  very  softly,  "  No 
loyalty  is  like  your  loyalty,"  and  bending 
forward  she  pressed  her  lips  to  his  and  said 
again,  "  Yes,  no  loyalty  is  like  yours,"  and 
rising,  went  away. 

But  when  she  heard  that  against  all  the 
predictions  of  the  surgeons  he  had  recov 
ered,  she  was  piqued,  and  held  his  loyalty 
not  so  great.  And  Douglas  was  even 
sorry  that  he  had  not  died  then,  for  he  had 
wished  to  die.  Nor  did  the  queen  remem 
ber  that  she  had  promised  him  all  the 
lands  of  a  Scot  county  j  nor  did  he  remind 
her,  nor  see  her  often. 

But,  poor  queen,  the  Scot  counties 
passed  away  from  her,  and  she  was  a  pris 
oner  at  the  hands  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
against  all  the  rules  of  hospitality. 

Then     she     would     mutter,     they    say, 
260 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

"  There  is  no  loyalty  like  that  of  William 
Douglas." 

And  William  Douglas  came  to  her  by 
permission  of  Lord  Shrewsbury,  and  was 
added  to  her  suite. 

But  Queen  Elizabeth,  having  heard  of 
the  episode  at  Loch  Leven,  ordered  that 
he  be  dismissed. 

But  he  swore  that  he  would  free  her, 
as  many  another  Scot  gentleman  did  for 
that  matter,  and  English  and  French  lords, 
and  the  King  of  Poland. 

Now,  one  day  in  her  prison,  Mistress 
Jane  Kennedy,  the  queen's  lady,  told  her 
that  William  Douglas  had  been  killed  in 
the  last  attempt  to  reach  her  and  free  her ; 
which  was  fortunate,  as,  if  captured,  he 
certainly  would  have  been  executed  with 
the  English  and  Scot  gentlemen  who  were 
in  that  plot.  But  the  Queen  of  Scots 
would  not  believe  that  he  was  dead,  and  up 
to  the  last  expected  to  see  him  again,  —  a 
proof,  say  the  historians,  that  she  was  a 
bit  maddened  by  that  long  imprisonment, 
261 


The  Loyalty  of  William  Douglas 

when  she  became  faded  and  hopeless,  with 
only  memory  left  of  all  her  possessions  and 
all  her  lovers. 

But  whether  it  were  a  mad  or  wise  say 
ing,  it  was  ever  a  favorite  one  of  hers, 
that  "  no  loyalty  was  like  that  of  William 
Douglas,"  and  that  he  again  would  prove 
it.  And  she  was  a  princess  who  attracted 
men's  loyalty  to  madder  extremes  than  any, 
whether  by  her  majesty  or  her  wantonness, 
her  biographers  disagree. 


262 


When  Position  Fails 


263 


When  Position  Fails 

IN  1776  our  representatives  declared  in 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment  the  para 
dox  "  All  men  are  born  free  and  equal." 
'T  was  a  neat  enough  statement  for  paper, 
but  some  in  America  believed  it  not. 
Was  there  an  equal  for  General  Washing 
ton  ?  Did  we  not  cringe  a  bit  to  rank  when 
a  French  marquis — albeit  a  tall,  red-haired 
boy  —  came  among  us  ?  A  title  caught 
even  then  many  a  good  appointment,  and 
I  doubt  much  sometimes  if  Alexander  of 
New  Jersey  would  have  been  so  much 
esteemed  if  he  had  not  had  claim  to  the 
Scottish  earldom  of  Stirling.  I  am  sure 
many  inefficient  foreign  adventurers  had  ser 
vice  with  us  because  they  had  titles.  Two 
of  these  gentlemen  proved  conclusively 
265 


When  Position  Fails 

that  they  had  great  natural  abilities :  one, 
of  course,  Monsieur  de  la  Fayette,  who,  a 
boy  of  twenty,  came  so  cleverly  out  of  the 
affair  of  Barren  Hill,  and  the  other,  Casimir 
Pulaski,  the  Pole,  whom  I  saw  fall  with  a 
wound  in  the  thigh  during  the  charge  on 
Savannah.  Taken  on  the  brig  "  Wasp," 
he  died  as  she  was  putting  to  sea,  esteemed 
a  good  friend,  a  gallant  captain. 

It  was  only  the  night  before  that  he 
told  me  the  truth  of  that  affair  at  Warsaw 
which  led  to  his  service  in  America.  He 
was  not,  the  Count  Pulaski  assured  me, 
himself  a  partner  in  this  matter,  although 
he  was  indeed  a  member  of  that  Con 
federation  of  Bar,  sworn  to  fight  for  Polish 
freedom  to  the  very  end.  But  circumstan 
tial  evidence  led  to  his  banishment,  as  it 
had  to  that  of  so  many  others.  Despair 
ing  of  Poland,  and  eager  for  a  career,  he 
came  to  America. 

Yet  although  my  friend  was  not  himself 
in  this  affair,  the  story  he  told  of  it  appears 
to  me  new.  The  picture  of  the  king  and 
266 


When  Position  Fails 

his  assassin  walking  side  by  side,  reasoning 
together  of  the  rainy  night  in  the  wood  of 
Bilany  has  had  more  than  passing  effect. 
The  story  proves  that  our  revolt  against  a 
king  was  not  the  first.  Ah,  history  is  full 
of  these  instances,  King  John,  Charles 
Stuart,  Stanislaus  of  Poland,  Louis  XVI., 
George  III.  by  proxy  in  America,  and 
many  another. 

Now  this  is  the  account  of  the  affair  as 
I  remember  it  —  of  the  Street  of  the  Capu 
chins,  Warsaw. 

The  king  had  been  to  his  summer 
palace  that  day  of  September  3d,  1771, 
and  his  coach  was  returning  along  the 
Street  of  the  Capuchins.  Now  it  was 
nine  o'clock  of  a  rainy  night  as  the  leader 
of  the  king's  guard  of  some  seventeen 
dragoons  was  astounded  by  a  man  leaping 
before  his  horse  with  the  loud  com 
mand,  "  Halt."  The  lieutenant  strug 
gled  to  bring  his  sabre  down  on  the 
fellow's  head.  His  horse  careened,  stop 
ping  indeed  the  whole  company  and  the 
267 


When  Position  Fails 

coach,  whence  the  king's    head    suddenly 
projected. 

At  the  moment  a  shot,  from  a  window 
of  a  supposedly  deserted  house,  grazed  the 
king's  face,  instantly  killing  the  servant 
who  was  with  him  in  the  coach. 

"  The  king  is  assassinated,"  the  cry  was 
raised  from  guards  and  passers.  "  His 
Majesty  is  dead  !  " 

Stanislaus,  who  ever  was  considerate  of 
his  inferiors,  shouted  at  this,  — 

"  It  is  Felix,  the  heyduc,  who  is  shot. 
Quick,  catch  the  assassin  !  " 

Suddenly  down  the  street  came  the 
sounds  of  horses,  and  cries, — 

"  Down  with  Stanislaus,  the  creature  of 
the  Russians  !  " 

At  the  same  instant  men  rushed  out  of 
the  house  whence  the  shot  into  the  coach 
had  come,  swearing,  shouting,  and  firing. 
One  of  the  king's  guards  cried, — 

"  A  plot !  An  ambush  !  There  are  a 
thousand  !  " 

Instantly  the  panic  became  general. 
268 


When  Position  Fails 

The  lieutenant  of  the  Guards,  who  had 
succeeded  in  running  through  the  fellow  at 
his  bridle  rein,  now  found  himself  con 
fronted  by  the  horsemen.  Turning,  he  led 
the  flight,  and  the  king  was  left  almost  alone 
in  his  coach,  hugging  the  dead  body  of  his 
poor  servant,  and  oblivious  to  everything 
else.  The  horses  on  the  coach,  rearing 
and  plunging,  required  all  the  attention  of 
the  postilions,  who  themselves  were  fright 
ened  out  of  whatever  wit  they  may  have 
had. 

By  this  time  the  leader  of  the  attacking 
horsemen  was  dismounted  by  the  coach 
door. 

"  Out,  Stanislaus  !  "  he  cried,  "  you  are 
to  come  with  me." 

The  king,  perceiving  who  this  was, 
cried  out  to  him, — 

"  Kolinski,  traitor,  I  am  your  king." 

For  an  instant  Kolinski  hesitated.     The 

sight  of  the  king,  placed  as  he  was,  with 

the  dead  servant  in  his  arms,  and  yet,  still 

the  king,  with  that  dignity  Stanislaus  always 

269 


When  Position  Fails 

possessed  —  that  scene  shown  dimly  by  the 
lantern  of  the  coach,  shook  for  a  moment 
the  conspirator's  resolution. 

But  the  others  were  behind  him,  desper 
ate,  and  knowing  that  if  the  issue  of  the 
adventure  were  not  successful  death  was 
certain. 

"  Pull  him  out !  " 

Then  Stanislaus  looked  up  from  the 
dead  heyduc  in  his  lap,  the  dark,  hand 
some  man  he  always  was,  now  with  no 
fear,  but  with  a  mastering  anger  at  the 
indignity. 

"  You  shall  hang  for  this  ! " 

Ah,  they  knew  that  danger  too  well. 
They  could  not  hesitate,  if  pity  for  a 
moment  had  weakened  their  purpose. 

Roughly  they  dragged  the  king  from 
the  coach,  he  struggling  and  crying  and 
clinging  to  the  dead,  and  the  sides  of  the 
coach. 

I  can  imagine  nothing  more  horrible 
than  that  scene,  —  the  king  now  outside 
in  the  mud,  the  dead  body  of  the  ser- 
270 


When  Position  Fails 

vant  dangling  from  the  coach  step,  the 
postilions  struggling  with  their  horses, 
the  conspirators,  some  on  foot  and  some 
mounted,  surrounding  the  king,  one  bring 
ing  the  flat  of  a  sabre  against  his  head,  and 
the  crowd  of  townspeople  who  suddenly 
had  gathered. 

And  then  a  cry  went  up, — 
"  The  Guards  are  returning  ! " 
Kolinski  was  on  his  horse  now,  and  he 
caught  the  king,  who  between  the  struggle, 
and  horror  at  his  dead  servant,  was  in  a  half 
dazed  state.     Another   seized   Stanislaus's 
other  shoulder. 

41  The  Guards  !  "  rang  out  the  cry  again, 
«  The  Guards  ! " 

Kolinski  lashed  his  horse,  dragging  the 
near  lifeless  king.  On  they  tore,  Kolinski 
again  and  again  having  to  slacken  his 
horse's  speed,  lest  the  king  should  be 
killed.  So  much  more  slowly  was  the 
progress  made  by  those  who  were  drag 
ging  the  king  that  the  others,  now  seized 
with  panic,  ran  as  they  could ;  and  when 
271 


When  Position  Fails 

the  ditches  beyond  the  city  were  reached, 
only  seven  remained.  Here  Kolinski 
paused,  uncertain  about  the  path  in  the 
darkness,  densened  by  the  rain.  They 
were  outside  the  city  with  their  captive, 
but  whither  should  they  take  him  ?  Kolin 
ski  cursed.  The  king  braced  himself  with 
out  a  word  against  the  dripping  horse. 
Stanislaus  had  lost  a  shoe.  His  foot  was 
torn  and  bleeding.  Never  was  man  or 
king  in  sorrier  plight. 

"  Do  you  remember,  sire,  that  you 
danced  at  the  palace  last  night  ? "  Ko 
linski  asked  with  bitter  mockery. 

"  Ah,  fallen  king  !  "  said  Stanislaus, 
"  I  remember,  and  can  foresee,  wretch, 
how  high  you  will  hang." 

"  Hang !  "  muttered  Kolinski  at  this. 
"Ah,  I  may." 

In  the  mean  time  one  of  the  others 
called  back, — 

"  This  is  the  way." 

Kolinski  then  spurred  up  his  horse, 
again  dragging  the  king.  But  the  way 
272 


When  Position  Fails 

was    uneven.      He    stopped    to    dismount, 
releasing  Stanislaus  for  an  instant. 

"  Yes,  we  shall  have  to  walk,"  said 
one  of  the  others.  "  But  where  are 
we  ? " 

"  In  the  wood  of  Bilany,"  Stanislaus 
himself  answered. 

"  Yes,  but  where  ?  "  asked  Kolinski, 
peering  into  the  gloom.  The  rain  tric 
kled  from  the  leaves,  and  then  came 
stealthy  movements. 

"  The  Russians  !  "  whispered  one. 
"The  Russians!" 

"  A  patrol  ?  "  questioned  another. 
"  Quick  !  Save  yourselves  !  "  Panic 
seized  them,  as  it  had  the  others.  They 
disappeared  among  the  trees,  into  the 
darkness. 

Then  the  king  laughed,  a  jarring, 
mocking  laugh. 

"  Kolinski,  my  captors  have  fled.  We 
are  alone  —  you  and  I.  Come,  let  me  go. 
We  are  man  to  man." 

"  Man  to   man,   Pole   against   Russian. 
18  273 


When  Position  Fails 

I    have    sworn,    Stanislaus,    to    take    you. 
I  '11  not  give  you  up." 

"  But  can  I  not  call  out  to  the  Rus 
sians  ?  " 

"  Bah  !  Cry  out !  Do  you  fancy  they 
would  believe  you  were  the  king,  or  that 
they  could  hear  ?  I  do  not  believe  they 
were  Russians,  but  only  the  panic  fears  of 
my  friends." 

"  And  you  have  no  fear,  Kolinski  ?  " 

"  Fear  ?  Yes,  I  have  enough  of  it. 
But  I  am  little  less  likely  to  die  —  and  I 
have  no  wish  to  die  —  if  I  carry  this 
out." 

And  here  the  king  interrupted  by 
shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  How  useless  !  "  said  Kolinski,  trying 
to  put  his  hand  over  his  mouth.  "  Do 
you  not  see  that  you  are  as  likely  to  be 
heard  by  my  friends,  who  will  hasten  to 
help  me,  as  by  a  Russian  patrol  ?  " 

The  king,  who  was  much  exhausted,  as 
one    may    believe,    had    thrust    Kolinski's 
hand  aside.     Now  he  said,  — 
274 


When  Position  Fails 

"  Ay,  true." 

"  But  where  are  we  ?  "  asked  Kolinski. 

"  I  know  not  save  in  the  wood  of 
Bilany." 

"  We  must  walk  and  find  out.  We 
cannot  go  over  these  ruts  with  the 
horse." 

"  We  must  walk,"  said  the  king.  "  It 
avails  neither  of  us  to  stand  as  we  are  in 
the  rain." 

And  leaving  the  horse,  they  walked  on 
through  the  dripping  wood,  not  knowing 
the  direction,  although  Kolinski  was  care 
ful  to  take  that  which  he  thought  led  away 
from  Warsaw.  And  as  this  odd  pair  stum 
bled  on,  the  king  sore  and  sad  and  weak, 
so  that  Kolinski,  he  knew,  would  have  no 
difficulty  in  controlling  him  alone,  the  king 
said,  — 

"  Villain,  you  shot  my  servant,  Felix." 

"I  would  to  heaven  it  had  been  your 
Majesty." 

"  And  in  what  have  I  wronged  you, 
Kolinski  ? " 

275 


When  Position  Fails 

"  As  you  have  every  Pole,  by  ruling 
Poland  for  her  enemy's  sake." 

"  Yes,  granted,  man,  that  may  be  the 
fact.  But  how  do  you  know  that  I  may 
not  think  it  for  the  better  ? " 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  Because  you  Poles  cannot  rule  your 
selves,  nor  would  you  let  me." 

"  No,  we  have  stolen  your  Majesty  that 
you  may  not  rule." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  into  Warsaw 
without  arrest  ?  "  said  the  king ;  when  the 
other  answered, — 

"  Your  Majesty  need  not  suspect  your 
police  in  this  matter.  We  entered  dis 
guised  as  peasants,  and  some  of  us  hid 
in  hay-carts." 

Now  in  this  strange  conversation  with 
out  any  farther  appeal  by  the  king  to  his 
companion's  pity,  Kolinski  yet  in  some 
way  was  influenced.  They  both  were 
equally  lost  in  the  wood  of  Bilany,  captive 
and  captor,  and,  now  that  Kolinski  re 
flected  about  the  matter,  he  saw  that  it 
276 


When  Position  Fails 

was  equally  necessary  for  both  to  find 
some  way  out.  Yet  he  must  not  let  the 
king  escape  him.  His  freedom,  nay,  his  life 
probably  depended  on  him  keeping  the  king. 

After  stumbling  along,  the  rain  now 
having  stopped,  the  pair  noticed  a  light 
through  the  trees. 

"  The  Convent  of  Brelany  !  "  said  the 
king. 

With  a  cry  of  dismay  Kolinski  recog 
nized  the  building,  which  declared  that  for 
all  their  walking  they  had  proceeded  in  a 
circle,  the  convent  not  being  a  league  from 
Warsaw. 

"  Shall  we  ask  aid  of  the  nuns  ? "  the 
king  asked. 

For  answer  the  other  clutched  his  arm. 

"  Not  on  your  life,  fool !  "  he  cried. 

As  he  spoke,  the  great  gate  was  suddenly 
thrown  back,  casting  a  bar  of  light  over  a 
sodden  road,  and  the  dripping  oaks  be 
yond.  Out  of  the  gate  came  slowly  an 
old  monk,  stumbling  along.  Kolinski 
clutched  the  king's  arm  the  tighter,  know- 
277 


When  Position  Fails 

ing  that  he  was  lost  should  the  monk  dis 
cover  them.  But  the  door  closed,  the 
monk  passed  down  the  road.  The  place 
was  still,  when  suddenly  the  notes  of  the 
organ  in  the  convent  chapel  broke  in  on 
the  silence.  The  king  crossed  himself, 
muttering  a  prayer. 

"  For  my  bejduc,  Felix,  whom  you 
killed,  man." 

41  Come,"  said  Kolinski,  roughly.  "We 
cannot  wait  here." 

The  king  followed,  and  again  Kolinski 
wondered  why  the  king  had  not  tried  to 
communicate  with  the  monk. 

"  Why  did  you  not  speak  ?  Why  do 
you  come  with  me  ?  "  he  asked  curiously, 
after  a  moment.  "  Why,  man,  do  you 
not  struggle  with  me  ?  " 

"  Because,  Kolinski,  I  would  win  you." 

The  count  paused  at  that.  Again  they 
were  in  the  forest.  Again  he  was  not 
certain  of  their  path  ;  but  it  was  not  or 
this  uncertainty  he  was  thinking  now,  but 
of  the  king. 

278 


When  Position  Fails 

"  Why  did  you  not  cry  out  to  the 
monk  ?  " 

"  You  would  have  been  caught." 

"  Of  course,  but  so  much  the  better 
for  you." 

"  No,"  answered  the  king,  "  so  much 
the  worse,  Kolinski." 

"  And  why,  I  have  asked  ?  " 

"  Count,  has  not  to-night  proven  how 
much  the  King  of  Poland  needs  friends,  — 
strong,  daring  men  ?  " 

"  And  you  are  trying  to  gain  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  gain  you." 

Count  Kolinski  was  ever  most  sus 
picious;  now  he  saw  the  king's  cunning, 
he  thought,  in  endeavoring  to  gain  him. 

And  suddenly  he  asked  himself  why 
would  it  not  be  better  for  him  to  side 
with  the  king  ?  The  issue  of  the  ad 
venture  was  uncertain.  He  was  alone 
with  the  captive,  who,  of  course,  was 
disabled  with  the  wound  in  his  foot  and 
the  rough  usage.  He,  Kolinski,  easily 
could  let  the  king  escape.  It  would  be 
279 


When  Position  Fails 

easy  to  persuade  his  fellow  conspirators 
that  he  had  been  forced  to  abandon  the 
captives,  as  all  the  others  indeed  had. 
By  aiding  the  king  he  might  purchase 
for  himself  immunity.  The  thought  was 
tempting,  possibly  more  so  because  of 
a  certain  dignity  with  which  Stanislaus  had 
borne  himself  since  the  first  of  the  ad 
venture.  Kolinski  felt  himself,  you  may 
see,  grasping  a  horn  of  the  dilemma  he  had 
not  thought  possible.  And  as  he  thought 
of  his  position  he  remembered  the  strong 
oath  he  had  taken  to  carry  out  his  object. 

"  Come  !  "  he  began. 

"But — "  Stanislaus  began. 

"  I  have  sworn,  sire  !  "  began  Kolinski, 
almost  humbly,  for  he  understood  well 
the  significance  in  the  "  but." 

Stanislaus  threw  himself  on  the  ground 
wearily. 

"  Ah ! "  said  the  other,  with  sudden 
pity,  "  I  had  forgot  your  wound." 

"Yes,  Count  Kolinski,  you  have  for 
got  much." 

280 


When  Position  Fails 

"  And  what,  sire  ?  " 

"  That  he  who  takes  an  oath  against 
his  king  takes  no  binding  one." 

"  Sire,  it  is  Poland's  interest  I  have 
sworn  to  protect.  And  yet  —  " 

"  And  yet,  Kolinski  ?  " 

"  This  night  I  have  grown  to  think 
differently  of  you.  I  have  come  to  re 
spect  you  as  a  man." 

"  A  king  is  but  more  —  or  less  —  than 
a  man." 

"  The  King  of  Poland  I  held  less  up 
to  this  night." 

"  And  have  you  changed  ?  " 

"  If  I  should  free  you  I  should  be 
taken  —  executed." 

"  Count,"  said  the  king  at  this,  for 
Stanislaus  had  a  shrewd  wit  in  times  of 
need,  "  if  I  be  more  than  a  man,  a 
king,  my  oath  should  be  good,  and  I 
swear  to  you  that  you  shall  meet  no  harm. 
Should  my  guards  come  on  us  now  I 
would  direct  them  to  the  road  contrary  to 
that  you  take." 

281 


When  Position  Fails 

"  If  I  could  believe  you  !  " 
"  And  why  should  you  not  ?  " 
"  You  have  suffered  so  much  from  me." 
"You    can    believe    me     if    you    will 
reflect." 

"  And  why  ?  "  asked  Kolinski,  again 
wondering. 

"  Because  I  want  your  brain,  your 
daring.  Should  I  persuade  you  I  should 
have  you  as  my  servant." 

"  True,"  Kolinski  reflected.  Some 
creatures  stirred  in  the  forest.  A  little 
wind  waved  the  trees,  and  swept  their 
faces.  The  phases  of  the  matter  pre 
sented  themselves.  Which  was  the 
better,  the  safer  ?  To  serve  the  king  ? 
Certain  he  would  be  a  fool  not  to, 
should  the  king  succeed  or  fail.  The 
scene  in  the  Street  of  the  Capuchins  oc 
curred  to  him  again,  —  the  king  with  the 
dead  servant  in  his  arms,  lit  by  the  fit 
ful  glare  of  the  lantern  of  the  coach. 
The  wandering  in  the  forest  had  changed 
his  idea  of  Stanislaus. 
282 


When  Position  Fails 

"  You  are  the  king,  sire.  Forgive  me 
—  if  you  may." 

Ah,  could  he  after  that  night's  ad 
venture  !  For  the  moment  he  hesitated 
again.  Suddenly  Stanislaus  extended  his 
hand  to  him. 

"  Thank  you,  Count  Kolinski." 

"  But  I  have  not  said." 

u  I  know  your  thoughts.  It  is  your  in 
terest  to  serve  me,  they  tell  you,  count." 

"  I  have  thought  that,  sire." 

And  then  with  the  quickness  with  which 
daring  men  arrive  at  decisions,  he  cried  : 

11  I  will  serve  you.  They — my  com 
rades  —  have  run,  leaving  it  all  for  me  to 
do.  My  interest  is  with  you,  sire." 

"  If  I  had  not  thought  you  would  arrive 
at  this  conclusion  I  should  have  cried  out 
to  the  monk,"  Stanislaus  answered ; 
"  for  do  you  not  see  how  truly  your 
interest  is  with  me  ?  It  is  doubtful  should 
I  resist  if  you  could  get  me  to  your 
friends.  On  the  other  hand  we  both  are 
lost  in  the  forest.  We  need  each  other." 
283 


When  Position  Fails 

"  I  have  considered  that,  sire." 

At  this  they  were  groping  their  way 
again,  the  king  saying  that  they  must  be 
near  the  mill  of  Mariement.  They  had 
come  on  a  path  which  he  was  certain  was 
one  he  remembered  when  hunting  in  that 
part  of  the  wood. 

By  this  time  the  clouds  lifting  some 
what,  they  were  able  to  see  that  the  con 
jecture  might  prove  true,  and  presently 
they  heard  the  brook  tumbling  over  its 
stony  bed  below  the  raceway  of  the  mill. 

At  the  door  of  the  low  darkened  build 
ing  Kolinski  knocked,  once,  twice,  thrice 
and  again.  When  there  was  no  response 
he  grew  impatient. 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  the  miller  of 
Mariement  may  be  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Inside,  thinking  we  may  be  robbers," 
said  the  king. 

At  this  Kolinski  picked  up  a  stone  and 
sent  it  crashing  through  the  window,  while 
he  shouted, — 

"  Open  to  the  king." 
284 


When  Position  Fails 

Then  there  came  a  light,  and  an  old 
man's  fretful  tone, — 

"  What  want  you  ?  " 

u  The  king  is  here  at  your  door,  rascal ; 
open  !  " 

The  miller  was  not  persuaded  even  then. 
But  at  last  between  his  fear  and  curiosity 
he  opened  his  door.  And  even  then  he 
had  difficulty  in  recognizing  Stanislaus  in 
the  miserable  figure  the  king  made  after 
his  sorry  experience. 

"  Pardon,  sire,"  he  cried,  falling  on  his 
knees.  "  Pardon." 

"  Up,  man ;  I  do  not  wonder.  The 
Count  Kolinski  and  I  were  set  on  by 
assassins  in  the  forest." 

"  Assassins !  "  cried  the  miller  of  Ma- 
riement. 

"  Yes,  assassins,"  Stanislaus  answered, 
while  he  pushed  into  the  bare  little  room 
where  the  miller's  wife  and  son  stood 
staring  their  astonishment. 

Kolinski  now  began  to  tremble  for  him 
self.  Would  Stanislaus  keep  his  word 
285 


When  Position  Fails 

with  him  now  ?  The  king's  manner  had 
changed.  He  was  writing  to  General 
Coccei  of  the  Guards  in  Warsaw  : 

"  By  a  kind  of  miracle,  I  am  saved 
from  the  assassins.  I  am  here  at  a  little 
mill  of  Mariement.  I  am  wounded,  but 
not  badly." 

He  called  to  the  miller,  who  was  now 
eager  enough  to  gain  the  royal  favor,  to 
carry  the  letter  to  Warsaw. 

While  they  waited,  Kolinski  again 
hesitated,  but  being  a  brave  man,  he  saw 
that  regrets  availed  him  nothing.  Pos 
sibly  Stanislaus  was  equally  suspicious 
of  him.  At  any  rate  they  both  showed 
their  relief  in  their  faces  when  General 
Coccei,  who  had  believed  the  king  to 
be  dead,  arrived  at  the  mill  door  in  his 
carriage. 

But  then  again  Kolinski  trembled. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  conspiracy,  sire.  I 
have  proof  positive,"  the  General  of  the 
Guards  declared. 

"  Proof  positive  !  "  Stanislaus  answered 
286 


When  Position  Fails 

smiling.  "  I  have  proof  positive  that 
Count  Kolinski  has  saved  my  life." 

Kolinski    had   listened   to   every   word. 

"  Sire,"  said  he  at  last,  "  am  I  indeed 
pardoned  ? " 

"  Hush,"  said  Stanislaus,  "  we  are 
friends.  Our  fortune  lies  together.  Your 
friends  will  accuse  you  of  siding  with  me. 
Ah,  you  have." 

"  You  have  the  proof,  your  Excellency," 
Kolinski  said,  turning  to  the  commandant 
of  the  Guards.  He  had  courage.  The 
adventure  of  the  wood  had  changed  his 
politics,  nay,  his  opinions.  Stanislaus  ap 
peared  to  him  as  he  was,  a  likable  gentle 
man,  misplaced  as  King  of  Poland. 

In  the  event  Stanislaus  kept  his  word 
given  in  his  desperation.  He  had  seen 
during  that  strange  walk  they  had  taken 
together,  how  clever  a  man  Kolinski  was. 
He  alone  received  pardon,  he  alone  of 
all  the  conspirators  escaped  the  fiat  of  the 
Polish  law. 

Two  of  the  conspirators,  Strawenski 
287 


When  Position  Fails 

and  Lowenski,  accused  him  very  bitterly 
of  their  betrayal.  They  execrated  him  as 
they  ascended  the  scaffold. 

But  Count  Kolinski  answered  the 
charge  boldly.  He  said  the  other  con 
spirators  abandoned  him.  He  could  not 
keep  the  king  without  aid.  When  he 
had  discovered  that  Stanislaus  was  inclined 
to  be  clement  he  had  accepted  his  cle 
mency,  and  the  king  had  kept  his  word. 
However  erroneous  Stanislaus's  political 
opinions  and  practices  might  have  been,  he 
at  least  had  not  lied  in  this :  was  ever,  as 
far  as  he  was  able  to  be,  the  good  friend  of 
those  who  supported  him.  At  least  Count 
Kolinski  declared,  that  the  "  man "  was 
greater  than  the  "  opinion." 

If  these  declarations  were  influenced  by 
fear,  I  am  sure  that  Count  Kolinski  had 
good,  prudent  reasons  for  his  conduct. 
At  least  I  have  a  very  vivid  picture  of  the 
strange  scene  between  king  and  conspira 
tor,  of  the  rainy  night  in  the  wood.  I  fear 
I  have  not  made  the  scene  so  clear  as  the 
288 


When  Position  Fails 

account  Casimir  Pulaski  gave  of  the  ad 
venture  that  began  with  the  abduction  in 
the  Street  of  the  Capuchins. 

On  the  last  night  of  Casimir  Pulaski's 
life,  as  I  have  said,  he  told  me  this.  The 
morrow  was  to  bring  the  fatal  assault  be 
fore  Savannah.  Possibly  the  whole  scene 
is  more  vivid  to  me  on  account  of  that 
memory.  For  Count  Pulaski,  although 
we  were  very  jealous  of  foreigners,  was  a 
most  excellent  captain,  as  his  achievement 
in  the  Southern  department  showed. 

That  he  served  with  us  at  all  was  en 
tirely  due  to  the  adventure  of  which  I 
have  given  a  poor  enough  description,  and 
in  which,  although  it  led  to  his  banishment, 
he  himself  had  no  part.  Although  I  have 
heard  many  stories  to  the  contrary,  I  have 
no  reason  to  doubt  the  strict  truth  of  this 
statement,  for  in  my  own  experience  I  ever 
found  Casimir  Pulaski  a  man  of  his  word. 


19  289 


Angela 


293 


Angela 

THE  scandal-mongers  of  the  wheel 
are  confined  mostly  to  those  who 
cannot,  or  do  not,  wheel.  Not  so  long 
ago  women  were  likely  to  make  mental 
faces  at  other  women  who  rode,  but  so 
soon  as  they  themselves  were  spinning 
along  with  a  freedom  they  never  had 
fancied,  they  straightway  wondered  at  all 
these  allegations.  And  how,  indeed,  does 
a  brisk  turn  under  the  sky,  and  between 
the  fields,  drive  away  cobwebby  notions  ! 
In  the  old  days  a  canter  might  do  it ;  but 
a  horse  is  a  luxury,  and,  even  if  you  can 
afford  it,  is  ever  getting  out  of  condition, 
and  to  be  fit  must  have  a  modicum  of 
constant  exercise.  But  now  all  go  a-spin- 
ning,  the  horseman  as  well  as  the  one 
time  long-distance  walkers,  the  sinners 
and  those  who  strive  to  regain  this  old 
world  from  the  curse. 
295 


Angela 

Among  these  latter,  no  one  is  better 
equipped  for  the  ancient  fight  than  the 
rector  of  St.  Matthew-in-the-Park,  the 
Rev.  Lemuel  Springer.  With  body  and 
mind  attuned  to  a  fine  healthfulness,  at 
thirty,  he  believes  strongly,  and  preaches 
and  acts  his  belief;  and  in  these  days  when 
clergymen  sometimes  forget  that  their  duty 
is  but  to  heal  the  heart's  wounds,  and  to 
preach  the  reward  of  simple  honesty  and 
cleanly  living,  it  is  a  delight  to  sit  of  a 
morning  in  a  pew  of  St.  Matthew-in-the 
Park  and  listen  to  the  direct  and  human 
religion  its  athletic  young  rector  expounds. 
I,  myself,  remember  him  when  he  was 
No.  3  on  the  'Varsity  crew,  and  a  very 
great  man.  He  still  could  pull  that  third 
oar  as  strongly,  but  the  only  sport  his 
duties  now  permit  him  is  wheeling,  and 
if  you  go  to  the  park  of  a  morning  you 
may  see  him  going  up  and  down  hill,  and 
doubtless  meditating  those  words  for  the 
soul-cheer  afforded  by  his  bits  of  sermon 
izing,  put  always  in  English  tersely  strong. 
296 


Angela 

And  yet  he  has  had  his  troubles,  his  ex 
periences,  his  questionings,  his  sin,  his 
falsity  ;  and  if  you  will  follow  my  story,  you 
will  see  how  it  all  was  due  to  the  wheel 
that  he  once  forgot  himself. 

Of  a  May  day  the  Reverend  Lemuel  was 
coasting  down  the  long  hill  into  the  strag 
gling  village  of  Roundbush,  Westchester. 
It  was  his  day  of  outing,  and  now  at  noon 
he  was  hungry  after  a  twenty-mile  exhila 
rating  spin ;  and  the  world  had  put  its 
care  away,  and  his  blood  was  tingling  and 
his  heart  singing  like  the  birds  in  the 
fields  and  the  treetops  through  the  windy 
blue  spaces  of  that  sunny  spring-day  sky. 
The  old  tavern  at  Roundbush  bears  on  a 
creaking  sign  a  distorted  likeness  of  our 
first  great  President,  and  after  long  years 
of  desuetude  again  has  found  usefulness 
through  the  revival  of  the  road,  and 
flaunts  a  noon  placard :  "  Lunches  for 
Bicyclers."  Yet  this  afternoon  the  Rev 
erend  Lemuel  thought  that  he  had  it  quite 
to  himself,  as  the  fat  landlord  pushed  his 
297 


Angela 

shirt-sleeves  farther  above  his  brawny 
elbows  and  said  he  guessed  he  could  give 
his  visitor  "  somethin'  that  was  fit  eatin'." 
And  Lemuel  —  I  will  drop  his  title  — 
thought  the  broiled  chicken  delicious,  and 
sauntered  into  the  parlor,  dark  after  the 
sunshine,  with  its  haircloth  chairs  and  its 
colored  prints  of  "  Washington  Crossing 
the  Delaware,"  and  "  John  Brown's  Cap 
ture,"  and  certain  photographs  of  prim 
rural  folk. 

Now  usually  Lemuel  was  most  observ 
ing,  yet  he  had  been  in  that  room  fully 
five  minutes  before  he  noticed  a  figure 
stretched  out  on  a  couch ;  at  the  dark 
side,  to  be  sure,  so  indeed  it  may  not  have 
been  so  strange  that  he  had  not  seen  her 
at  first.  Her  face  sunk  in  a  pillow,  she 
seemed  to  be  sobbing.  Lemuel  at  once 
made  for  the  door,  when  he  heard  a  sweet 
and  strangely  plaintive  voice  :  — 

"  I  'm   such  a  fool !      Oh,   I  beg  your 
pardon !  "  she    added,    with   such    evident 
confusion  that  Lemuel  turned  about  hastily 
298 


Angela 

to  see  the  prettiest  figure  of  a  woman  in 
a  witching  bicycle  costume  ;  and  what 
she  was  like  I  '11  leave  you  to  fancy  :  just 
fancy,  that  is,  the  very  nicest  girl  of  your 
acquaintance,  and  you  will  see  her  as  Lem 
uel  saw  her  much  more  easily  than  from 
any  description  of  mine. 

"  Oh !  "  she  said  hastily,  rubbing  her 
eyes. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Lemuel. 

"It  was  my  fault,"  she  said,  looking 
him  over  demurely.  "  I  forgot  this  was 
a  public  room." 

"  I  am  sure  it  was  mine,"  said  Lemuel, 
hastily.  It  was  all  rather  strange  and 
sudden,  and  yet  he  decided  at  once  that 
she  was  a  well-bred  young  person. 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  he  blurted  out  in 
astonishment. 

"  Because  you  are  Mr.  Springer  of 
St.  Matthew-in-the-Park." 

He  bowed,  remembering  with  a  bit  of 
conceit  that  a  lot  of  people  doubtless 
299 


Angela 

knew  him  whom    he   did  n't   know   from 
Adam  or  Eve. 

"  I  need  a  clergyman,"  she  said. 

Now  at  this  astounding  statement  Lem 
uel  stared  his  utter  astonishment.  Did 
she  need  his  spiritual  advice  ?  She  looked 
a  bit  worldly. 

"  That  is  rather  a  surprising  statement," 
she  added. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  hopelessly. 

"  I  mean,"  she  said,  "  I  want  an  escort 
to  Greenwich,  and  with  a  clergyman  there 
can  be  no  question." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lemuel  again. 

"You  must  think  me  strange." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and 
made  a  very  worldly  reply,  — 

"  I  think  you  delightful." 

"  You  will  let  me  go  with  you,  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  if  you  ask  me,"  he 
said  ;  and  why  in  the  world  did  he  say 
exactly  that  ? 

"I  do  —  and  we  must  be  started  before 
him." 

300 


Angela 

"  Him  ?  —  I  don't  understand." 

"  I  will  explain  later ;  we  must  be 
started  now.  We  have  no  time." 

"  Oh,  no  time  ?  " 

"  Can  you  oblige  me,  Mr.  Springer  ? " 

And  with  those  eyes  on  him  he  could 
and  did,  and  having  paid  his  reckoning  he 
was  in  the  saddle,  this  graceful  young  per 
son  beside  him,  again  and  again  looking 
over  her  shoulder.  She  kept  up  a  brisk 
pace,  neither  saying  a  word,  although  you 
may  believe  he  was  wondering  at  the  im 
pulse  which  had  brought  him  to  such 
sudden  complaisance.  What  if  any  of  his 
parishioners  should  see  him  as  he  was  now, 
tearing  madly  up  and  down  hill  with  this 
undeniably  very  pretty  young  woman,  and 
running  madly  from  Him  ?  Who  the  deuce 
was  "  Him  ?  "  —  only,  of  course,  Lemuel 
did  n't  say  "  who  the  deuce." 

"  Oh !  oh  ! "  she  cried  suddenly. 

"  Ah,  what 's  the  matter  ?  "  said  he, 
slowly. 

"  If  he  should  appear,  and  attempt 
301 


Angela 

to    speak    to    me,    you    must    knock   him 
down." 

"  That  would  be  rather  unclerical, 
would  n't  it  ?  "  said  Lemuel. 

"  You  must,"  said  she. 

"  Oh,  if  I  must,"  said  he,  looking  at 
her,  and  knowing  he  certainly  would. 

The  road  forks  half  a  mile  further,  with, 
at  the  point,  a  bit  of  wood  and  thicket. 
As  you  near  the  wood,  you  have  the  stretch 
of  the  road  to  the  left,  and  now,  as  they 
came  into  that  view,  Lemuel's  companion 
cried  out, — 

"  Oh,  I  saw  him  !  " 

«  Who  ?  " 

u  No  matter ;  we  must  hide.  I  don't 
believe  he  could  have  seen  me,"  she  added 
quickly. 

And  dismounting,  she  dragged  her  wheel 
after  her  into  the  bushes. 

u  You  stay  there,"  she  called.  "  If  he 
asks  if  you  have  seen  me,  you  must  say 
you  have  n't."  And  she  disappeared. 

"  That  would  be  a  lie,  would  n't  it  ? " 
302 


Angela 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  a  man  who 
can't  lie  when  it 's  necessary,"  came  back 
the  answer.  And  all  was  still,  save  for  the 
rural  noises  of  the  sunny  May  day.  But 
at  last  about  a  turn  came  a  wheelman. 
He  was  young  and  well  groomed.  Seeing 
Lemuel,  he  paused. 

"  Have  you  passed  a  young  lady,  sir  ?  " 

"  What  sort  of  a  young  lady  ? "  said 
Lemuel,  avoiding  the  lie  direct. 

"  Wheeling." 

"  A  half  dozen,  I  think,"  said  Lemuel, 
truly,  breathing  a  sigh  of  relief. 

For  our  young  gentleman  was  in  his 
saddle,  and  tearing  on. 

Five  minutes  passed ;  but  presently  a 
face  appeared  in  a  leafy  frame,  —  a  laugh 
ing,  tantalizing  face,  —  when  she  followed, 
dragging  the  wheel. 

"  He  did  n't  see  me." 

"  Now  what  does  this  mean  ?  "  Lemuel 
asked  rather  angrily. 

"  Is  your  patience  worn  out  ?  "  said  she, 
demurely. 

303 


Angela 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  is.  What 's  your 
name  r  " 

"  Angela." 

"  Angela  what  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you." 

"  But  you  know  mine." 

"  Everybody  does,"  said  she,  with  gentle 
flattery. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  But  what  does  it 
mean  ?  " 

"  Now,  please  don't  be  angry  — please." 
And  she  added, — 

"  You  've  been  so  good." 

"  Have  I  ? "  said  he. 

"Yes;  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done  if  you  had  n't  appeared  just  then. 
You  make  me  able  to  say  if  any  one  should 
see  me, '  Why,  I  am  out  with  Mr.  Springer, 
and  he  is  a  clergyman.' ' 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  said  Lemuel. 

"  Now  don't  bother,  please  !  We  'd 
better  be  on  the  road." 

And  she  mounted. 

"  Come  on  !  "  she  cried. 
3°4 


Angela 

And  when  he  was  by  her  side  she  began 
again, 

"  I  '11  explain  as  I  ought.  There  was  a 
girl,  and  she  thought  she  loved  a  man." 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  girls  like  that." 

"  But  she  did  n't  really." 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  How  do  you  ?  " 

"  Hum  —  I  have  a  parish." 

"  So  you  have.  Well,  to  go  on : 
when  she  hears  that  man  is  engaged  to 
another  girl,  she  tries  to  *  cut '  the  other 
girl  out,  —  out  of  pique,  not  love  for  the 
man,  you  understand." 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  Well,  you  are  not  so  clever  as  I  thought. 
But  to  return  to  this  girl  —  " 

"  Angela  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  was  Angela,  if  you  will. 
Angela  encourages  the  man  —  " 

"  The  man  who  just  passed  ?  " 

"  Tom,  we  '11  call  him." 

"  Yes,  Angela    encourages    Tom  j   and 
Tom  succumbs  —  " 
20  3°S 


Angela 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  she  said,  looking 
at  him  mischievously.  "Yes,  he  did:  I 
must  be  frank  with  you,  a  clergyman. 
And  it  goes  on  —  in  a  country  house  in 
Westchester  in  May.  But  there's  small 
chance  in  a  house  party,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  he. 

"Of  course  you  know,  because  you  are 
a  young  clergyman  of  a  modish  church. 
Now  —  to  go  on  with  the  story  —  Angela 
agrees  to  meet  Tom  on  the  wheel.  She 
wheels  for  a  long  time  before  the  appointed 
hour,  and,  getting  tired,  stops,  as  you  know; 
and,  being  tired,  her  conscience  pricks  her." 

"  I  know  of  such  cases,"  said  Lemuel, 
laconically. 

"  And  she  thought  of  the  other  girl,  and 
remembered  how  wicked  she  has  been, 
because  she  has  been  encouraging  Tom 
just  for  fun." 

"  She  should  have  felt  wicked,"  said 
Lemuel,  severely. 

"Just  then  she  sees  a  very  prominent 
young  clergyman." 

306 


Angela 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Lemuel,  becomingly. 

"  Well,  at  once  she  snatches  the  chance. 
She  will  appear  to  Tom  when  he  meets 
her  to  be  out  with  the  clergyman.  If  he 
speaks  she  will  ignore  him.  Should  he 
persist,  the  clergyman,  who  is  the  stronger, 
will  knock  him  down." 

"  Will  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  promised." 

"  Did  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  because  Angela  wished  it." 

"  Well,  perhaps.  But  when  Tom  ap 
pears  why  does  Angela  run  into  the 
bushes  ? " 

"  Don't  you  think  it  was  better  to  avoid 
the  meeting  ? " 

"  Possibly." 

u  And  now,"  she  said,  dismounting  and 
extending  a  hand,  "  good-by." 

"  You  are  going  to  leave  me  ?  " 

"  I  live  over  there." 

"  There  are  a  lot  of  houses.  Green 
wich,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  Greenwich  ;  but  no  matter  which 
307 


Angela 

house.  You  are  going  back  to  town.  I 
am  ever  so  much  obliged  to  you.  You 
have  been  ever  so  good." 

"  Angela,"  he  said,  u  must  it  be  good- 
by  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  won't  flirt  any  more  ?  " 

" 1  never  do." 

"  But  you  have  confessed  to  it  —  with 
Tom." 

"  I  never  will  again.  Now  good-by, 
Mr.  Springer." 

And  she  was  in  her  saddle,  and  smiling 
back  at  him,  and  vanishing  over  the  slope, 
leaving  him  rubbing  his  eyes. 

At  first  he  thought  he  would  follow,  but 
then  in  Greenwich  he  likely  would  meet 
some  one  who  knew  him,  and  he  could  not 
afford  to  appear  ridiculous,  particularly  after 
such  an  escapade. 

Yet,  as    he  wheeled,  he    regretted    his 

resolution,  and   he    envied   Tom,  and   he 

could  n't    think    of   his   sermon ;    and   he 

really  was  on  that  ride  simply  to  clarify  his 

308 


Angela 

mind  that  he  might  make  his  next  discourse 
a  fitting  one. 

And  back  at  his  desk,  it  was  the  same, 
and  his  sermon  was  singularly  poor  that 
next  Sabbath  morning. 

And  he  strove  with  himself,  and  tried  to 
put  her  out  of  his  mind,  and  to  think  of 
how  scandalous  it  all  would  seem  to  any 
of  his  parishioners  who  should  hear  of  it. 
Yet  he  yielded,  so  far  as  to  find  himself 
looking  about  furtively  for  Angela.  He 
even,  with  some  self-deception,  wheeled 
several  times  over  the  same  roads. 

But  when  he  understood  how  impulse 
was  carrying  him,  he  lashed  himself  men 
tally  as  a  hermit  of  old  did  his  flesh.  And 
he  wrote  a  mighty  sermon,  which  quite  as 
tonished  his  congregation  ;  and  after  he  had 
delivered  it  he  was  compelled  out  of  consist 
ency  to  give  up  his  one  indulgence  surviv 
ing  from  a  great  career  as  a  college  athlete. 

And  he  plunged  deeper  into  his  work, 
and    "  God's    poor "   and   suffering   never 
had  more  attention  in  that  parish. 
3°9 


Angela 

But  he  could  n't  give  up  dinners  and 
routs  altogether,  as  a  certain  attendance 
on  these  functions  is  plainly  a  clergyman's 
duty.  And  at  one  of  these  he  saw  Angela, 
and  was  presented.  And  under  her  eyes  he 
forgot  himself,  as,  Heaven  knows,  clergy 
men  are  as  the  rest  of  us. 

"  Angela,"  he  began,  "  I  have  been  look 
ing  for  you." 

"  Have  you  ?  "   said  she. 

"  And  Tom  ?  "  he  asked,  fearfully. 

"  Oh,  he  's  married." 

"  To  whom  ?  I  did  n't  catch  your 
name.  Was  it  Mrs.  —  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  n't.  It  was  —  the  other 
girl." 

"  I  hope  you  have  followed  my  advice," 
he  said,  after  a  moment. 

"Not  to —     I  told  you  I  never  did." 

"  I  wish  —  I  really  wish  you  would 
make  me  the  exception,"  said  the  Rev 
erend  Lemuel. 

And  the  parish  gossips  —  save,  to  be 
sure,  certain  dowagers,  and  prim,  acidulous 
310 


Angela 

virgins — declare  that  Angela,  the  rector's 
lady,  shows  the  rule  of  an  outrageously 
lively  young  woman  turning  sedate  if  her 
fancy  and  faith  may  be  caught  and  held : 
all  of  which,  of  course,  is  fitting  the  curtain- 
fall  on  a  comedy. 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 


313 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 


IN  the  first  place  Jack  met  a  mermaid. 
Don't  be  astonished,  for  she  was  near 
it ;  a  very  modern,  strong-limbed  girl,  with 
hair  and  eyes  like  those  in  Senor  Cabanel's 
famous  Venus,  who  could  swim  like  a  fish, 
and  who  could  entice  you  into  flirtation,  as 
the  mermaid  of  the  old  story.  For  it  in 
deed  seems  as  if  all  the  old  mythological 
tales  may  be  proven  in  these  later  days, 
when  your  entrancing  girl  can  swim,  and 
sail,  and  golf,  and  wheel,  and  ride,  and 
shoot,  and  bring  down  a  partridge  as  easily 
as  a  skilfully  shot  glance  may  fetch  a  too 
susceptible  man  tumbling  to  her  feet. 
Jack  saw  Miss  Spencer  that  very  first 
evening  at  Pierre  Van  Brule's,  and  the 
light  lay  golden  over  the  wave  crests,  and 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

she  with  the  others  came  out  of  the  surf, 
and  her  laughter  fell  like  music  on  his  ears, 
tired  with  the  dry  monotonies  of  the  civil 
courts. 

"  She 's  my  sister-in-law,  Priscilla  Spen 
cer,"  Pierre  explained  to  his  guest.  "  The 
surf  is  fine  to-day." 

"Yes,  jolly,"  said  Priscilla,  over  his 
shoulder.  The  maid  had  wrapped  her  in 
a  bright-colored  surtout,  and  she  stood 

D  ' 

there  with  dripping  yellow  hair,  and  mock 
ing,  mischievous  eyes.  Two  bronzed 
young  fellows  sauntered  behind ;  he  noted 
their  swelling  muscles,  their  glowing,  ruddy 
cheeks,  and  tangled  hair.  "Tom  Brin- 
ton  and  Phil  Merrivale,  you  know,"  Van 
Brule  went  on. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack,  slowly,  watching  the 
girl. 

"  And  Priscilla,  Mr.  Merton,"  said  Van 
Brule. 

"  Ah,  I  am  glad  to  know  you.  We  all 
hear  so  much  of  you,  Mr.  Merton,"  said 
she. 

316 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"  You  are  thinking  of  Sandford  and 
Merton,"  said  Merrivale,  who  was  of  our 
day  at  New  Haven. 

"  No,  I  am  thinking  of  John  Merton, 
the  corporation  counsel,"  said  Priscilla, 
giving  him  a  cool,  dripping  hand. 

"  I  declare,  I  don't  believe  I  shall  do 
else  but  think  of  you  for  the  rest  of  my 
days  —  Pierre's  sister-in-law,"  said  Jack, 
not  stupidly  at  all,  and  Pierre  thought  that 
Amy,  the  hostess,  might  have  been  wrong 
when  she  said  she  was  fearful  lest  Merton 
prove  too  heavy  for  the  rest  of  that  crowd. 
A  clever  man  like  that  is  all  right  any 
where,  Pierre  mused  sententiously,  in 
which,  as  the  context  will  show,  he  was 
quite  in  the  wrong. 

"  We  shall  meet  at  dinner,"  said  Pris 
cilla,  nodding  back,  and  then  ran  up  the 
path  to  the  red-shingled  house,  which 
stands  on  the  cliff  over  the  stretching  sea, 
where  you  can  hear  ever  a  murmur  of 
tragedy,  against  the  comedy  of  summer 
lives. 

3'7 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

Now  that  answer  to  Priscilla  was  the 
one  easy  remark  that  Merton  made  dur 
ing  all  the  eventful  visit.  It  was  not 
indeed  a  studied  remark,  but  rather  the 
expression  of  a  premonition.  His  un 
easiness  began  in  the  drawing-room  before 
dinner. 

The  Van  Brules  ended  the  long  summer 
day  by  dining  at  nine  o'clock.  The 
dinner-coated  crowd,  the  damsels  in  fluffy 
things  —  that  show  simplicity  at  the  cost 
of  heavy  checks  from  papas  or  guardians 
or  husbands — seemed  very  conventional 
after  that  first  scene  by  the  sea.  But  it 
was  all  surprisingly  delightful  after  the  hot, 
struggling  town  Merton  had  left  —  so  the 
splendor  of  Paris  once  burst  on  me  from 
the  bright  days  of  the  storm  on  the  North 
Atlantic.  Merton  was  like  an  American 
in  a  Parisian  drawing-room,  who  can't 
understand  the  flow  of  phrases,  —  a  play  of 
sport  around  him,  animating  all,  which  lay 
quite  beyond  his  immediate  comprehension. 
They  talked  of  boating  and  swimming, 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

and  wheeling  and  golfing  and  records, 
and  events  in  the  circle  where  all  were 
intimates.  He  was  an  outsider ;  a  savage 
suddenly  admitted.  He  could  have  told 
them  of  a  world  they  did  not  know,  of  af 
fairs;  but  they  only  would  listen  with  polite 
acquiescence,  voting  him  a  bore.  He  saw 
that  at  once.  He  felt  vaguely  chagrined. 
His  self-esteem,  pampered  by  so  many 
successes,  was  piqued.  The  hostess  tried 
to  put  him  at  his  ease,  but  confided  after 
ward  to  Van  Brule  that  he  quite  tired  her 
out.  Finally  the  mermaid  entered ;  no, 
not  the  mermaid,  but  a  demure,  laughing 
Priscilla.  She  was  quite  a  different  being. 
Tom  Brinton  was  at  once  at  her  side. 
Merton's  eyes  followed  the  pair  with 
vague  envy  of  their  apparent  intimacy. 
The  butler  gravely  threw  back  the  doors. 

"  You  will  take  Priscilla,  Mr.  Merton," 
said  the  hostess. 

"You  have  me,  you  see,"  said  Pris 
cilla. 

11 1  am  delighted,"  stammered  our  suc- 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

cessful  attorney,  suddenly  feeling  an  in 
creased  awkwardness. 

"  Oh,  I  have  heard  so  much  of  you," 
gushed  Priscilla. 

"  Yes,  you  said  it.  I  don't  believe  you 
a  bit,"  he  declared,  with  the  desire  to  as 
sert  himself.  Why  should  he  be  put  in 
the  background  by  these  popinjays  ?  He 
referred  to  Brinton  and  Merrivale  as  those 
vain  birds. 

"  Oh,  you  are  trying  to  steal  my  — 
lightning.  That  should  have  been  thun 
der,  should  n't  it  ?  " 

"  It  lies  in  your  eyes,"  said  he.  u  Never 
trouble  about  quotations." 

"  You  are  awfully  clever,  and  sarcastic, 
I  believe." 

"  No,  I  am  not ;  I  mean  it."  She 
easily  saw  that  he  did  indeed. 

"  Now  I  will  return  your  remark.  You 
are  like  all  men." 

"  Am  I  ?  " 

11  No,  I  did  n't  mean  that ;  you  have 
done  a  lot  of  things.  What  I  meant  is 
320 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

that  you  have  the  art  of  the  compli 
ment." 

"You  should  separate  sincerity  from 
insincerity." 

"  I  think  I  do,"  said  she.  She  thought 
him  sincere,  and  her  feminine  instinct 
never  lied  to  her,  although  it  did  to  men. 

"  But  seriously  —  "  she  began. 

"I  am  serious  —  " 

"  Do  you  wheel  ?  " 

"  Is  that  serious  ?  " 

"  No  —  "  He  paused.  He  knew  she 
would  hold  him  in  contempt  if  he  said  he 
did  n't.  He  hesitated,  and  was  lost. 

"  Yes  —  of  course.  I  meant  I  am  not 
an  expert." 

11  Tom  !  "  she  called  across  the  table  to 
Brinton,  "  Mr.  Merton  is  going  with  us 
on  that  thirty-mile  spin  to-morrow." 

"Am  I  ? "  said  he,  startled  at  having 
the  magnitude  of  his  lie  so  suddenly  thrust 
back  on  him. 

"  Why  —  don't  you  want  to  go  ?  "  said 
she. 

21  321 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"  Yes,  awfully  ;  but  —  I  am  a  bit  of  a 
duffer." 

"  Ah,  we  know  better." 

"  Do  come  along,  Merton.  Van  Brule 
has  a  stable  filled  with  wheels  and  horses," 
said  Tom  Brinton,  although  he  plainly  did 
not  relish  the  notion. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Jack,"  said  the  host.  "  I  '11 
speak  to  Ferguson  to-night." 

"  Ferguson  is  the  groom,"  Priscilla  ex 
plained.  "  You  must  come  along." 

"  And  he  will  have  a  wheel  ready  for 
you.  You  people  are  to  start  at  eight,  I 
am  told,"  the  host  went  on. 

"  Yes,  we  are  early  birds." 

"Now,  I  don't  believe  I  will,"  said 
Jack.  "  It 's  awfully  good  of  you.  But 
you  see  I  'm  a  duffer,  as  I  said  —  out  of 
practice.  You  go  to-morrow  without  me, 
and  I  will  practise  a  bit  and  be  in  condi 
tion  day  after  to-morrow.  You  know 
I  've  been  so  busy  lately  that  — " 

He  went  on  while  the  others  mildly  ex 
postulated.  His  lie  had  caught  him,  but 
322 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

he  would  be  up  early  to-morrow,  and 
learn  before  anybody  was  around.  Every 
wretched  fool  could  learn  to  ride  a  wheel, 
and  he  would  take  a  couple  of  hours  by 
himself.  He  breathed  more  freely,  for  he 
was  insistent  that  he  would  n't  go.  But 
presently  another  question  from  Miss 
Priscilla  staggered  him. 

"And  you  golf?" 

He  had  been  caught  in  his  first  lie,  so 
he  answered  bravely  enough  this  time : 

«  No,  I  don't." 

"  You  miss  a  lot,"  and  he  saw  he  was 
falling  rapidly  in  her  esteem.  The  mean 
time  the  table  were  talking  the  golfing  lingo. 

"  I  am  sure  Mr.  Merton  does  every 
thing,  Priscilla,"  laughed  the  hostess. 

"  But  I  don't  golf,"  he  repeated  stub 
bornly,  now  rather  wishing  that  he  had 
said  that  he  did. 

"We  will  have  some  rides,  anyway, 
Mr.  Merton,"  continued  the  hostess. 

"  I   shall   expect    them,"   said    Merton. 
He  did  sit  a  horse  rather  awkwardly. 
323 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"And  some  swims,"  said  Priscilla, 
which  spurred  him  on. 

u  If  there  is  one  thing  I  do  better  than 
another  it  is  swimming,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad.  You  know  I  'd 
rather  be  in  the  surf  than  to  eat." 

"  I  saw  that,"  said  he,  remembering  the 
mermaid. 

As  they  rose  from  the  table  Tom  Brin- 
ton  in  some  way  edged  to  Priscilla's  side, 
and  presently  had  her  to  himself.  Our 
great  young  attorney  fell  moody.  What 
a  detestable  beast  Brinton  was !  Why 
the  dickens  had  he  been  slaving  all  his 
life,  when  these  chaps  had  all  the  ease 
which  he  lacked ;  and  they  were  but 
triflers.  Ah,  they  knew  the  urbanities, 
which,  after  all,  were  worth  while.  And 
he  —  he  tried  to  talk  to  several  young 
women,  conscious  all  the  time  of  dismal 
failure.  On  the  beach,  under  the  moon, 
he  could  see  Priscilla  walking  with  Brin 
ton.  Confound  Tom  Brinton ;  you  see 
reason  suddenly  had  left  this  hitherto  most 
324 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

reasonable  man,  —  left  him  as  a  coquette 
may  her  victim. 

"  I  believe  I  will  turn  in,  Pierre,  if  you 
don't  mind.  I  'm  a  bit  tired." 

"  I  know  you  have  been  in  that  hor 
ribly  musty  office,  wearing  yourself  out," 
said  the  hostess. 

"Oh,  no,"  he  said,  "your  delightful 
hospitality  puts  that  out  of  the  way." 
Just  then  he  heard  Priscilla  :  — 

"  Won't  you  change  your  mind  about 
that  expedition  to-morrow  ?  " 

She  stood  on  the  lower  step.  Tom 
Brinton's  cigarette  glowed  by  her  side. 

"  I  think  I  '11  remain  firm  by  my  re 
solve,"  he  said  laughingly. 

Yet,  when  he  was  up  stairs,  he  did  not 
feel  the  least  like  laughter.  The  sea  lay 
far  and  mysterious  in  the  yellow  shine. 
If  ever  he  were  back  in  town  he  would 
have  a  wheeling  master,  and  a  golfing,  and 
a  swimming ;  and  he  had  said  he  could 
wheel  and  swim  now.  Ah,  he  must.  He 
would  learn  the  wheel  early  to-morrow ; 
325 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

and,  remembering,  he  rang,  and  told  the 
man  to  call  him  at  six  o'clock.  He  cer 
tainly  could  do  that.  As  for  swimming 
—  he  could,  a  little.  To  be  sure,  he  had 
not  been  in  the  water  for  years;  but,  at 
least,  he  could  make  some  sort  of  an  ap 
pearance  if  he  did  not  venture  out  too  far. 
Of  course,  he  had  exaggerated  in  saying 
that  it  was  the  one  thing  he  could  do 
better  than  another.  He  smiled  grimly. 

"  I  seem  to  be  getting  to  be  quite  a 
liar;  and  why?"  He  answered  himself: 
"  She 's  the  most  interesting  girl  I  have 
seen  for  a  long  time,  I  'm  sure." 


II 

Ferguson,  the  groom,  was  one  of  the 
most  observant  of  his  kind ;  and,  being 
much  with  his  master  and  mistress,  was 
an  accurate  measurer  of  men.  From  his 
very  walk  he  could  tell  whether  a  man 
was  accustomed  to  a  horse ;  and,  now 
that  wheels  had  come  into  his  province, 
326 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

he  could  put  instantly  your  wheeling  gen 
tleman  ;  and,  standing  there  at  the  stable 
door,  his  arms  akimbo  around  his  claret- 
colored  cheeks,  touched  with  the  sunshine, 
that  brought  out  a  ruddy  glow  a  temperate 
but  regular  attention  to  the  whiskey  flask 
had  given,  he  decided  that  this  gentleman 
in  the  very  new  breeches  and  stockings 
was  not  an  old  hand.  "This's  what '11 
suit  yez,  sor,"  he  said,  taking  one  from 
the  room.  He  noted  that  the  gentleman 
did  not  mount  in  the  driveway,  but  went 
down  into  the  road. 

The  air  was  deliciously  soft  that  morn 
ing.  The  sea  had  changed  its  roar  to  a 
murmur.  Merton  felt  the  moment  inspi 
riting,  although  a  certain  derision  he  had 
fancied  in  Ferguson's  manner  had  piqued 
him.  u  I  '11  show  'em,"  he  said,  now  well 
out  of  view  of  the  house.  The  road 
stretched  white  and  level  direct  into  the 
land.  Not  a  creature  was  in  sight,  and  so 
he  began. 

But  suddenly  this  thing  of  steel  and 
327 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

springs  became  animated,  and  refused,  like 
a  mustang,  and  when  he  was  mounted, 
bucked.  Picking  himself  up,  covered  with 
the  white  dust  from  the  shell  road,  he 
tried  again,  with  the  same  result.  Hot 
and  already  tired,  he  kept  at  it  stubbornly. 
He  was  not  the  man  to  yield  at  a  trifle. 
But  this  thing  suddenly  seemed  to  have 
gained  extraordinary  importance,  to  be  en 
tirely  out  of  the  catalogue  of  mere  trifles. 
A  boy  in  a  milk  cart  stopped  and  laughed. 
Several  others  were  summoned  by  the 
milk  boy,  who  evidently  wished  to  have 
his  mirth  shared.  But  Merton  went  on, 
until  finally  he  had  the  thing  going,  but 
uncertainly.  Every  time  he  was  a  bit 
more  proficient.  He  found  himself  wheel 
ing  with  some  ease,  and  thinking  that  per 
haps  he  was  right  in  believing  that  he 
readily  could  master  the  creature.  Yet  a 
wagon  nearly  sent  it  cavorting.  It  had 
a  tendency  to  shy  and  then  to  tear  directly 
for  an  obstacle,  leaving  its  rider  dis 
mounted  dangerously  near  a  horse's  hoofs. 
328 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

But  he  would  try  again.  He  had  no  idea 
of  the  passage  of  time.  He  was  flattering 
himself  that  he  was  progressing  at  last 
when  he  heard  the  crunching  dust  behind 
and  Priscilla's  voice  :  — 

"  You  fibbed,  Mr.  Merton.  Now  you 
must  come  along." 

"  Yes,  do  come  along,  Merton,"  Tom 
Brinton  cried. 

Merton  did  not  dare  turn  about.  His 
machine  shied,  and  as  Priscilla  turned  hers 
quickly  to  avoid  him  it  tore  the  other 
way  with  demoniacal  persistence.  "  Oh," 
cried  Priscilla,  "I  —  " 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  said  Merton. 

And  they  were  in  a  heap  together  in 
the  white  dust,  and  Tom  Brinton,  think 
ing  Priscilla  was  hurt,  was  crying,  "  You 
infernal  duffer  !  " 

"Are  —  you  —  hurt,  Miss  Spencer?" 
Merton  said,  extricating  himself  from  the 
tangle. 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  never  am,  but  my  wheel 
is  bent." 

329 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"  You  see  I  was  right  about  saying  I 
could  not  ride  very  well,"  Merton  ex 
claimed,  despairingly. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind,"  she  said,  while  Tom 
Brinton  brushed  the  dust  from  her  skirt, 
and  her  laughter  rippled.  "  Is  n't  it 
ridiculous  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  said  Tom. 

"  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  don't  think  it 
serious,"  said  Jack,  humbly,  "  for  a  man 
to  be  such  a  —  a  —  fool." 

"  We  all  have  to  learn,"  said  Brinton, 
with  that  exasperating  cackle. 

"  I  wish  you  were  a  student  in  my 
office,"  said  Jack. 

"  Luckily,  I  'm  not.      But  I  thought  —  " 

"  He  does,"  said  Priscilla,  decidedly. 
"  Only  he  's  a  bit  rusty."  And  then,  as 
if  to  make  amends,  she  looked  up  into  his 
eyes.  "  Don't  mind,  Mr.  Merton,  we  '11 
have  that  swim  anyway  at  six  this  evening." 

"  Ferguson,"     Brinton     was     shouting, 
"bring   Miss   Spencer  another  machine." 
Ferguson  came  down   grinning. 
330 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"  Oi  seed  him 's  no  wheeler,"  he  whis 
pered  to  Brinton. 

Merton  at  first  did  not  venture  to 
answer  Priscilla. 

u  You  must  not  fail  me  in  that  swim." 

"  I  indeed  won't,"  he  cried  at  last.  "  If 
there  's  one  thing  I  can  do  it 's  swimming." 
And  there  speech  failed  him.  Ferguson 
brought  up  the  new  machine.  Priscilla 
mounted  with  a  delightful  nod.  Brinton 
threw  back  a  broad,  laughing  face  to  the 
discomfited  Merton.  He  could  fancy 
their  remarks.  "  I  must  swim  or  sink," 
he  said.  "  Here,  Ferguson,  take  this 
wheel.  I  've  had  enough  of  it.  I  'm 
going  in  to  breakfast.  Now  here  's  a  half 
dollar.  Keep  your  mouth  shut." 

"  Thank  ye,  sor,"  said  Ferguson. 

Ill 

But  if  he  had  given  that  half  dollar  to 
Ferguson,    he    saw   clearly   that    the    best 
way   to    face   the    consequence   was   with 
331 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

« 

bravado.  And  so  at  breakfast  he  told  the 
story  on  himself,  and  laughed  the  loudest. 
Our  man  of  the  fighting  legal  world  had 
not  entirely  lost  his  tact. 

"  It  was  Priscilla,  I  know,"  whispered  the 
hostess  to  her  husband.     "  Oh,  that  girl !  " 

But  behind  all  this  show  on  Jack's  part 
was  a  firm  resolve  to  retrieve  himself  by 
the  swim  in  the  evening.  He  would  be 
very  careful,  and  he  felt  that  his  little, 
boyish  skill  would  return  with  some  inter 
est.  In  recording  this  continued  aberra 
tion  on  his  part,  I,  too,  am  inclined  to  say, 
u  Oh,  Priscilla  !  "  How  else  can  you  ac 
count  for  so  practical  a  man  suddenly  be 
coming  queer ;  how  else  than  "  Priscilla," 
or  woman  ?  He  had  developed  a  small 
opinion  of  himself,  and  this  was  another 
strange  symptom.  Tom  Brinton's  daw 
dling  was  of  more  account  than  all  his 
achievements  put  together;  and  he  knew 
this  with  fierce  envy.  All  of  which  proves 
again  the  axiom  that  the  trifling  and  the 
important  are  but  relative. 
332 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

And  so  the  day  drew  on,  and  the  low 
sun  sent  its  sheen  from  the  western  hills 
far  out  over  the  waves,  turning  white 
crests  into  kaleidoscopes  of  color.  And 
then  they  all  came  down  from  the  house 
on  the  cliff,  laughing  and  jesting,  my  friend 
indeed  holding  his  own,  but  appearing  a 
rather  puny  figure  among  those  athletic 
ones.  And  there  was  not  Priscilla,  but 
the  mermaid  who  was  part  of  her,  and 
perhaps  the  most  of  her.  And  her  yellow 
hair  and  the  sea  eyes  caught  the  glimmer 
of  the  late  afternoon,  as  she  dove  into  a 
breaker,  the  others  following,  and  Jack 
Merton  not  much  behind.  Yes,  he  could 
swim  a  bit.  He  had  n't  forgotten.  One 
never  entirely  forgets  that  skill.  And  he 
felt  a  certain  exhilaration. 

And  then  over  the  crests  some  one 
called  to  him,  an  enticing,  mocking  voice ; 
and  there  was  the  very  mermaid  of  the 
poets  pushing  before  him.  What  would 
you,  or  I,  or  any  man  have  done  but  fol 
low  ?  And  Merton  followed  well  beyond 
333 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

his  depth,  that  merry  voice  calling  him 
even  deeper.  And  then  the  muscles  re 
monstrated,  and  he  knew  he  could  not 
keep  up.  Where  was  that  excellent  judg 
ment  which  had  carried  so  well  in  the 
struggle  among  men  ?  Here  sillily  follow 
ing  a  girl,  he  was  sinking.  All  the  world 
and  all  his  past  were  framed  by  the  green 
horizon,  and  he  must  die.  Still  she  called. 
The  voice  seemed  to  be  a  refrain  of  the 
sea,  like  Tennyson's  verses. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Don't  mind." 

She  was  approaching  with  long,  power 
ful  strokes. 

"  Lean  on  me.  There,"  she  said,  and 
as  her  head  rose,  "  I  never  shall  forgive 
myself.  Stop,  and  don't  mind.  They 
never  will  know.  We  are  but  swimming 
together.  Keep  back,  Tom,  Mr.  Merton 
is  but  experimenting,"  she  added  to  Brin- 
ton,  who  called,  for  they  were  separated 
from  the  others. 

"In  a  moment.  Are  you  tired  ?  Yes, 
334 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

you  are.  There.  We  will  touch  in  a 
moment." 

And  they  touched,  and  soon  were  in 
the  shallows. 

"  You  'd  better  go  in  now  and  take 
some  whiskey.  A  big  drink.  It 's  the 
best  thing." 

She  turned  back  to  Brinton,  who  stood 
beckoning. 

"  Tom,"  she  said,  "  don't  you  dare 
smile.  If  you  ever  so  much  as  whisper 
it  I  never  will  speak  to  you." 


IV 

I  have  represented  my  friend,  good  fel 
low  that  he  is,  in  such  a  foolish  light  that 

7  D 

I  am  glad  to  say  here  that  he  himself  told 
of  it,  as  he  had  of  the  bicycle  escapade, 
and  that  he  himself  began  to  laugh.  His 
secret  chagrin,  however,  was  none  the  less 
deep.  I  can't  remove  the  charge  of  fool 
ishness  as  far  as  being  disturbed  by  trifles 
335 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

may  go.  Yet  he  resolved  to  face  his  visit 
out,  to  lessen  it  not  a  day,  but  to  make  no 
more  attempts  in  unexplored  fields.  That 
night  he  approached  Miss  Priscilla  on  the 
subject,  but  she  was  strangely  silent,  and 
appeared  to  avoid  him.  Yet  he  hid  his 
discomfiture  so  well  that  Mrs.  Van  Brule 
confided  to  her  husband  that  after  all  she 
might  have  been  mistaken,  and  that  he  was 
proving  an  entertaining  addition  to  the 
house  party.  But  in  the  night  by  him 
self  all  his  provocation  cried  out.  To  be 
saved  by  a  girl !  How  ridiculous  !  Could 
he  live  it  down  ?  And  then  he  remem 
bered  that  he  had  not  so  much  as  said 
"  thank  you."  "  I  don't  believe  my  life 
appears  valuable  enough  to  thank  anybody 
for  it,"  said  this  disconsolate  young  man. 
But  he  resolved  to  make  amends  in  the 
morning,  and  he  found  a  chance  after 
breakfast. 

"I  —  I  hope,"  said  he,  "  that  you  don't 
think  that  I  fail  to  appreciate  the  good  turn 
you  did  me." 

336 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"  Oh,  don't  say  anything,  please ;  I  was 
to  blame." 

"  You  mean  you  led  me  on  ?  " 

"Please  don't  talk  about  it,  Mr.  Mer- 
ton,"  she  cried,  with  surprising  pettishness, 
and  to  stop  him  effectively  called  to  Brin- 
ton,  "  Tom,  do  come  here,"  which  Tom 
did  as  obediently  as  if  he  were  her  dog. 

As  the  days  dragged  on  she  still  avoided 
him. 

One  night  at  dinner  he  said  that  he  was 
to  leave  on  the  morrow.  The  hostess 
said  she  hoped  he  would  make  it  a  week 
longer,  and  now  really  meant  so  much. 
Then  he  noticed  that  Priscilla  was  looking 
at  him  keenly.  How  did  he  interest  her  ? 
he  asked. 

After  dinner  she  called  to  him  : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Merton,  do  come  and  walk 
with  me  on  the  beach.  No,  Tom,  you 
can't  come." 

Then  she  fell  silent,  and  they  were  out 
side   by  the   talking   surf.     But   he  could 
not  talk.     She  turned  suddenly. 
22  337 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

"  You  —  you  think  me  an  idiot,"  she 
cried  violently. 

"Why  —  Miss  Spencer  —  that's  what 
I  supposed  you  thought  me." 

"  Don't  be  silly,"  she  said.  "  You  are 
clever  and  brave  and  have  done  things ; 
and  you  think  I  only  care  for  these  — 
these  people  —  for  trivialities." 

"  Trivialities  seem  to  me  very  important 
lately,"  he  said. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  said,  look 
ing  across  the  sea. 

"  I  mean  that  if  all  these  people  are 
trivialities,  including  yourself,  you  are  the 
most  important  triviality  in  the  world  to 
me  —  if  you  insist  on  that  definition." 

She  turned  her  eyes  from  the  sea  to 
him,  and  said  not  at  all  shyly,  but  as  you 
might  expect  a  real  mermaid  to  make  such 
a  statement, — 

"  And  do  you  know  I  believe  you  are 
the  most  important  to  me  ?  " 

Now,  this  was  in  the  moonshine,  you 
know,  which  is  eternally  putting  unreality 
333 


The  Mermaid  and  the  Duffer 

on  facts,  so  that  inside,  where  he  had  her 
to  himself  in  a  corner,  he  salt, — 

"  But  Tom  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  've  just  been  brought  up 
together." 

"That's  all,"  he  said,  relieved.  "But 
I  'm  such  an  awful  duffer." 

"  At  trivial  things,"  she  acknowledged  ; 
and  then,  in  a  lower  tone,  and  with  a 
blush  :  — 

"  I  want  a  man  who  thinks  and  acts, 
and  will  not  be  afraid  to  get  drowned  — • 
for  me." 

"  If  you  entice  him  beyond  his  depths  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  want  him  to  be  enticed,  as  you 
were." 


339 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 


The    Lady    of  the    Road 

WE  discussed  it  many  times  after  the 
weary  day  was  over,  and  the 
morrow  promised  but  another  as  weary. 
We  saw  before  us  vacation,  and  Arcadia. 
Tommie  said  you  could  find  it  on  a 
wheel ;  and  finally  he  persuaded  me. 
My  persuasion  was  complete  the  third 
day  out.  To  be  sure,  we  had  not  yet 
found  Arcadia,  but  we  had  the  flavor  of 
some  good  health  already,  and  were  hope 
ful  that  when  we  least  expected  it  we 
should  cross  the  boundary.  The  road  had 
seized  our  spirits.  We  knew  already 
why  gypsies  persist  in  their  gypsying  ;  why 
the  most  entertaining  pages  in  "  Wilhelm 
Meister  "  and  in  «  Kenelm  Chillingly  "  are 
those  where  the  heroes  take  the  road  "  over 
the  hills  and  far  away ;  "  why  "  Prince 
343 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

Otto  "  is  the  most  delightful  of  Stevenson's 
stories,  and  "  Walking  Tours "  the  most 
exquisite  of  his  essays,  —  although  I  have 
not  heard  that  he  rode  a  wheel.  We 
recalled  that  the  real  charm  of  "  Pickwick  " 
was  in  the  coaching,  and  the  tooting  of 
horns,  and  that  Dick  Turpin  was  more 
hero  than  scamp. 

And  so  feeling  fit,  and  our  hearts  at 
tuned  to  simple,  natural  things,  we  rode 
into  that  bosky  wood,  which  was  to  be 
the  scene  of  our  first  misadventure.  The 
road  was  smooth  and  promiseful ;  through 
the  branches  at  our  right  was  the  glimmer 
of  a  lake,  where  Tommie  said  we  might 
loaf  comfortably  for  an  hour  with  our 
pipes.  So  we  left  our  steeds  by  the 
roadside,  and  went  down  by  that  shore, 
stretching  ourselves  out  for  comfortable 
contemplation.  An  hour  must  have 
passed,  when  Tommie  gripped  my  arm. 
"  Look,  Fletcher  —  there  in  the  road." 
I  followed  his  eyes,  and  saw  by  our 
wheels  —  a  bit  of  sunlight  on  her  face  — 
344 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

a  most  charming  young  woman  who  was 
gowned  in  one  of  those  walking  costumes 
that  are  now  the  most  admirable  achieve 
ment  of  the  dressmaker.  She  was  young, 
I  say,  and  blonde ;  and  she  was  smiling  to 
herself,  and  looking  our  wheels  over. 
One  she  raised,  and  —  before  we  even 
fancied  it  —  was  in  the  saddle  as  easily  as 
any  boy,  and  tearing  around  a  curve,  and 
out  of  our  ken. 

"  Well,  I  '11  be  hanged ! "  said  Tommie. 

"  I  hope  she  '11  bring  it  back,"  said  I. 

"  Particularly  as  it 's  my  wheel,"  said 
Tommie.  But  in  the  road  we  could  see 
no  trace  of  her  ;  she  had  vanished. 

"  Get  on  yours,  and  catch  her,"  said 
Tommie. 

"  Oh,  she  '11  bring  it  back.  She 
wasn't  —  " 

"  Yes,  she  was  —  " 

"  A  gentleman  of  the  road." 

"No,  a  lady — times  have  changed," 
said  Tommie,  ruefully.  "  Well,  I  'm 
after  her,  Fletch." 

345 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

And  he,  too,  was  around  the  curve  on 
my  wheel,  leaving  me  laughing  and 
mourning.  But  in  five  minutes  he  was 
back,  hot  and  irritable. 

"  There  are  three  forks  of  the  road  just 
beyond.  How  in  thunder  am  I  to  know 
which  she  took  ?  " 

"  Try  your  luck." 

"  It 's  bad  enough,"  said  he,  "  I  can't 
afford  another  wheel  this  year." 

"  I  think,"  said  I,  "  that  she 's  just 
playing  a  trick." 

"  It 's  rather  near  a  theft,"  said  Tom- 
mie.  "  Confound  you,  it  was  n't  your 
machine." 

"  No,"  said  I,  lighting  a  cigarette. 
"We'd  better  walk  on.  She's  gone; 
the  wheel  is  —  well,  perhaps  it 's  pawned 
by  this  time." 

"  You  think  you  're  funny,"  quoth 
Tommie.  "  Ride  on,  and  I  '11  walk." 

"  No,"  said  I,  «  we  '11  both  walk.  But 
she  was  an  infernally  pretty  —  " 

"  Thief." 

346 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"  Now,  Tommie,  you  don't  know 
that,"  said  I. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "haven't  I  the  evi 
dences  of  my  senses  ?  " 

"  They  sometimes  lie,"  said  I.  For  I 
saw  he  was  not  pleased  j  it  was  n't  my 
wheel,  and  of  course  I  could  philosophize 
more  easily  than  he.  We  took  the  most 
hopeful  turn  at  the  three  roads,  since  our 
map  refused  to  be  explicit ;  and  presently 
we  came  on  a  rustic  in  boots. 

"  Did  you  see  a  woman  riding  a  man's 
wheel  ? " 

11 1  swan,"  said  the  rustic. 

"  I  should  remark,"  said  Tommie, 
"  she  stole  my  wheel." 

"  You  don't  say  !  "  said  the  rustic. 

"  Where  does  this  road  lead  ?  " 

"  Nowheres,"  said  the  rustic. 

"  Don't  you  live  here  ?  "  said  Tommie. 

"  Since  I  was  born,  golly,"  said  the 
rustic. 

"  Then  where  the  deuce  will  this  road 
bring  us  to  ?  "  I  asked,  impatiently. 
347 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"  That  depends  on  where  ye  're  goin'," 
remarked  the  rustic,  practically. 

"  Oh,  Lord  ! "  said  Tommie.  "  I  've  a 
notion  to  pound  this  fool." 

The  rustic  looked  frightened,  .and  re 
treated  a  step. 

"  We  want  to  go  anywhere  —  to  find 
the  stolen  wheel,"  said  I. 

"  This  'ere  road  goes  to  Arcadia,"  said 
the  rustic. 

A  female  Dick  Turpin !  Arcadia ! 
We  opened  our  eyes. 

"  It 's  a  queer  name  that  Merivale  calls 
his  place,"  said  the  rustic.  "  It 's  'round 
that  thar  turn." 

We  left  him,  despairful  of  getting  any 
thing  more  lucid  from  him,  but  it  appeared 
that  at  least  we  had  reached  Arcadia.  I 
began  to  laugh,  when  Tommie  said  irri 
tably,  "  Shut  up." 

About  the  turn  we  came  on  a  road 
leading  from  ours  between  high  gate 
posts  ;  and  there  on  a  grassy  bank  was 
our  lady  of  the  road.  I  stepped  back, 
348 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

embarrassed.  She  was  laughing  to  her 
self.  Yes,  she  was  undeniably  pretty. 
And  as  we  paused,  she  began  to  sing  in 
a  voice  that  probably  was  not  a  good  one, 
by  common  standard ;  but  here  in  the 
wood,  singing  to  herself,  it  seemed  singu 
larly  delightful.  I  clutched  Tommie  and 
held  him  back. 

«<  Sing  no  more  ditties,  sing  no  more, 

Of  dumps  so  dull  and  heavy, 
The  fraud  of  men  was  ever  so, 
Since  summer  first  was  leafy." 

"  And  of  women,"  said  Tommie,  step 
ping  forward,  cap  in  hand ;  at  least  he  re 
membered  so  much  of  his  manners.  The 
singer  started,  and  drew  herself  up. 

"  Sir  !  "  said  she,  like  the  affronted  lady 
in  the  play. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Tommie. 
"  That  was  a  very  pretty  song." 

"  What  is  that  to  you,  sir  ?  It 's 
Shakespeare." 

"  You  '11  excuse  me,"  said  Tommie ; 
349 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"  but  we  have  had  a  mishap.     My  wheel 
has  been  stolen." 

"  Stolen  !  "  she  cried  in  a  crimson  glow  ; 
and  then  in  a  tone  that  went  despairful : 
"  Down  by  the  lake  ?  " 

"  Yes,  down  by  the  lake,"  said  the 
malicious  Tommie. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  how  can  I  explain  ? 
There  it  is.  I  thought  it  was  Fred's. 
I  thought  Fred  and  Harry  left  them 
there." 

"  It 's  no  matter,"  said  I.  "  I  'm  sorry. 
It  was  a  natural  mistake." 

She  looked  at  me  with  a  world  of 
thanks  in  the  blue  eyes.  Did  I  tell  you 
before  they  were  blue  ?  Tommie  calmly 
walked  to  his  wheel. 

"  I  am  glad  you  did  it,"  he  said,  "  be 
cause  it  has  given  me  a  chance  to  know 
you." 

"  You  're  atrocious,"  she  said ;  and 
turned  and  fled  up  the  road  behind  the 
gateway. 

"  Tommie,"  said  I,  "  you  're  a  cad." 
350 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

Tommie  leaned  on  his  wheel,  laughed, 
and  whistled. 

"  Was  n't  she  jolly  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  'm 
going  to  follow." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  do  anything  of 
the  kind,"  I  cried.  But  he  always  is  stub 
born  j  and  it  ended  by  me  following  him. 


II 

The  road  led  from  the  wood  into  a 
broad  sunny  lawn  which  was  dominated 
by  a  great  stone  house,  where  a  man  was 
just  stepping  into  a  high  dog-cart. 

"  Why,"  said  Tommie,  "  it 's  Harry 
Wharton." 

At  the  moment  Wharton  saw  us. 
"  Well,  I  declare,"  he  cried,  coming  for 
ward. 

"  She  did  n't  lie  after  all,"  said  Tom 
mie.  "  He  's  the  Harry  of  the  4  Fred  and 
Harry '  probably." 

"  Did  you  think  she  did  ? "  I  cried 
fiercely ;  but  Tommie  was  explaining 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

to  Wharton  that  we  had  lost  our  way, 
and  Wharton  was  insisting  on  the  hospi 
tality  of  the  Merivale  house,  which  he 
had  rented  for  the  summer,  he  explained  ; 
and  Tommie  was  accepting,  while  I  stood 
speechless.  At  the  moment  our  lady  of 
the  road  came  out  of  the  house  and  blushed 
at  the  sight  of  us,  and  looked  as  if  she 
wanted  nothing  so  much  as  to  take  to  her 
heels,  which  were  very  pretty  heels,  I  must 
assure  you,  topped  by  a  delicious  ankle. 
Wharton  presented  us,  "  Miss  Rose 
Burton."  Tommie  had  the  audacity  to 
say,  u  We  've  met  before." 

"  You  have  ?  "  said  Wharton. 

"I  don't  remember,"  said  she,  giving 
Tommie  a  glance  that  would  have 
troubled  me,  but  only  seemed  to  delight 
him.  But  she  rewarded  me  by  turning 
to  me,  and  extending  her  hand  and  saying 
in  a  low  voice,  "  I  don't  see  why  your 
friend  is  so  odious  about  that  mistake." 

"  I  don't  know,  I  'm  sure,"  I  said. 
Mrs.  Wharton  just  then  appeared,  and  I 
352 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

had  her — I  don't  mean  Mrs.  Wharton  — 
quite  to  myself,  —  an  opportunity  I  tried 
to  deserve.  I  began  to  believe  that 
Arcadia  was  all  the  poets  have  claimed 
for  it.  I  told  her  that  I  knew  it  was 
a  mistake  from  the  first ;  and,  to  be  frank, 
I  did  n't  try  very  hard  to  defend  Tommie's 
churlishness.  I  told  her  she  had  rather 
startled  me  when  I  saw  her  mount 
Tommie's  wheel  like  — 

"  Like  a  boy,"  she  interposed. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  I. 

"  How  Harry  and  Fred  —  " 

"  And  Fred  ?  "  I  said,  beginning  to 
suspect  every  man. 

"  Oh,  he 's  my  brother.  How  they  'd 
laugh,  I  was  going  to  say.  But  a  joke 
is  with  him  who  laughs  last  —  with  your 
friend,  I  think." 

"  He  thought  you  Dick  Turpin  dis 
guised,"  I  said,  trying,  I  '11  confess,  to 
make  his  case  a  bit  worse. 

"  He  might  have  known,"  she  said,  as 
if  much  provoked. 
23  353 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"Yes,  he  might,"  I  assented. 

Yet  in  strict  fairness,  I  felt  called  on  to 
let  him  know  my  perfidy  ;  and  that  night 
as  we  sat  smoking  and  reviewing  the 
day's  adventures,  I  said, — 

"  She  thinks  you  insufferable,  Tommie." 

"  She  has  told  you  that  already  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  I  replied,  with  rather  a 
self-conscious  air. 

"  I  say,  Fletch,  I  believe  there  '11  be 
more  fun  in  this  house  than  on  the 
road.  I  don't  believe  that  we  can  have 
another  adventure  —  like  —  " 

"  Like  getting  your  wheel  stolen.  Do 
you  want  another  ?  " 

"  She  's  an  amusing  girl,"  said  Tommie, 
inconsequently. 

"  Yes,  she  is,"  I  agreed.  "  But  —  you 
see  you  've  offended  her." 

"  And  you  have  n't  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  said  from  the 
first  you  would  get  your  wheel  back  —  " 

"  And  you  told   her   that ;   and   that   I 
insisted  she  was  a  thief  ?  " 
354 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"  Well,  yes,"  I  admitted  guiltily,  "  I 
believe  I  did." 

u  And  you  think  she  '11  like  you  any 
better  for  running  me  down  ? "  he  asked 
as  sarcastically  as  he  could. 

"  Who  said  I  wanted  her  to  like  me  ? " 

"Your  manner  —  you  conceited  ass." 

"  You  're  the  conceited  ass,  Tommie  ; 
for  you  think  you  've  made  an  impres 
sion." 

"  Well,  now  that  you  mention  it,  I 
hope  I  may  have." 

"  And  that  I  have  n't  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,"  Tommie  answered  hon 
estly. 

"  You  think  you  can  by  being  disagree 
able  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Fletch,  let 's  solve  for 
ourselves  that  moot  question,  — which  way 
will  make  the  most  impression  on  a  girl 
like  that  —  flattery  or  brutal  frankness." 

"  We  may  break  her  heart,"  said  I, 
resolved  that  of  us  two,  I,  not  he,  should 
do  the  breakage. 

355 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"  I  think  she  '11  look  out  for  that," 
Tommie  said. 

"  Or  she  may  break  ours,"  I  com 
mented. 

"  We  '11  risk  that,"  said  Tommie. 

"  We  may  end  by  disliking  each  other," 
I  went  on. 

"  Oh,  if  I  lose,  I  '11  not  hold  it  against 
you,"  said  Tommie. 

"  But  I  may  against  you,"  I  said. 

"  Such  a  Tom-boy  sort  of  a  girl,  too  !  " 
said  Tommie. 

"  I  think  you  wrong  her.  I  have  found 
some  fine  qualities  —  " 

"  Oh,  you  have  !  Well,  you  're  a  quick 
one,"  he  retorted. 


Ill 


Those  dear  people  who  formerly  lived 
in    Arcadia    successfully    eliminated    pain 
and  jealousy  and  rivalry  —  at  least  judg 
ing  from  their  own  accounts  ;   they  doubt- 
356 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

less  lied  a  bit  about  it.  For  in  my  own 
experience  I  am  bound  to  say  that  there 
may  be  drawbacks,  even  to  Arcadia.  My 
consciousness  of  a  flaw  in  the  place  began 
when  I  saw  that  Tommie  was  absorbing 
rather  too  much  of  her  attention.  I  felt 
at  first  that  she  was  but  leading  him  on, 
and  then  I  began  to  have  some  grave  sus 
picions,  which,  in  the  light  of  subsequent 
experience,  may  indeed  have  been  founded 
on  mere  jealousy.  Yes,  I  will  say  I  was 
jealous.  I  thought  in  beginning  this  vera 
cious  account  that  I  might  well  leave  the 
solution  ungiven  —  like  the  famous  riddle 
of  the  lady  and  the  tiger.  Of  our  two 
systems  of  tactics,  which  was  the  more 
likely  to  win  with  a  girl  like  Rose  Bur 
ton  ?  If  Tommie  at  times  had  the  bet 
ter,  there  were  other  days  when  I  seemed 
to  be  more  in  her  favor.  Once  I  accused 
him  of  using  my  flatteries,  of  not  playing 
fair,  when  he  retorted  that  I  had  known 
him  long  enough  to  trust  him. 

"  You  never  can  trust  even  your  best 
357 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

friend  —  when    there  's   a  woman   in   the 
case." 

"  Fletcher,"  said  Tommie,  gravely,  at 
this,  "  that  ancient  saying  is  gospel  truth." 

From  that  moment  I  felt  that  it  was  not 
a  fair  test  case ;  but  indeed  I  had  ended 
by  not  caring  a  fig  about  the  test.  I  just 
wanted  to  win. 

Now,  one  day  the  climax  of  the  situation 
was  reached  in  this  wise.  I  heard  she  had 
gone  wheeling  by  herself.  That,  of  course, 
was  a  chance.  I  prepared  to  follow,  when 
who  should  appear  but  Tommie. 

"  Which  way  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  following,  hem  —  " 

"  So  was  I,"  he  said. 

"  It 's  ridiculous  for  us  both  to  follow 
her,"  I  observed. 

"  Yes,  it  is ;  but  I  'm  not  inclined  to 
turn  back,  for — " 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Tommie,  quietly.  "  It 's 
fair  to  leave  it  to  the  wheels.  The  one 
who  overtakes  her  first  —  " 

"  All  right,"  I  said. 
358 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

And  then  began  that  contest  which  a 
certain  Tartar  tribe  conduct  more  regu 
larly,  —  a  chase  for  a  lady ;  up  and  down 
hill  we  scorched ;  now  I  before  —  now 
Tommie.  But  it  was  oftener  Tommie 
before  than  I.  He  drew  away  from  me ; 
until  in  sheer  spite  at  my  luck  and  him,  I 
gave  it  up,  dismounted,  and  wandered 
drearily  enough  into  the  wood  and  threw  my 
self  down ;  and  then  fell  to  laughing,  when 
I  heard  voices  —  hers  and  Tommie's. 
I  declare  I  could  n't  avoid  hearing  them. 

"  Ah,  I  have  been  chasing  a  thief,"  he 
was  saying. 

"  Will  you  never  stop  teasing  me  ? " 
she  cried.  That  remark  seemed  to  show 
that  he  had  been  playing  fair  after  all. 

"  Will  you  keep  my  heart  which  you 
stole—" 

"That's  a  very  silly  speech,"  she  said. 
I  thought  so,  too.  "  Besides,  it  was  a 
wheel,"  she  added. 

"  No,  it  was  the  other  essential  to  a 
man's  comfort." 

359 


The  Lady  of  the  Road 

"  Well,  if  you  '11  have  it  so,"  she  said. 

As  for  me,  I  turned  away.  They  did  n't 
notice  me.  In  the  evening  I  ventured  to 
say  to  her, — 

"  Ah,  I  've  been  congratulating  Tom- 
mie." 

"  He  told  you  ?  "  she  said,  turning  very 
red. 

"Ah,  yes,"  I  fibbed.  "You  know  I 
thought  you  thought  him  —  well  —  rather 
disagreeable." 

"  I  did  —  at  first.  But  —  you  know  I 
believe  that  was  the  reason  I  thought  so 
much  about  him  that  —  "  She  paused  in 
confusion. 

"  Then  it 's  true  that  you  can  make 
more  of  an  impression  on  a  girl  by  being 
disagreeable  to  her  than  by  flattering  her." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  said. 

I  don't  believe  she  did. 

Now  don't  think  that  I  am  still  nursing 
a  broken  heart.  I  am  too  old  a  bachelor 
not  to  know  there  are  many  good  fish  in 
the  sea. 

360 


Part  IV 
A  Tale  of  an  India  Mystery 


361 


The  Square   Diamond 

THE  "  Britannia"  pitched  in  the  Bisca- 
yan  swell,  and  the  crowd  in  the 
smoking-room  had  lessened  until  five  men 
were  left,  exchanging  yarns,  as  men  will 
who  go  to  and  fro  in  ships.  Captain 
Willoughby  had  been  silent  through  most, 
and  only  the  subject  of  Indian  trickery 
seemed  to  arouse  him.  Now  and  then 
the  screw  gave  its  dismal  whir,  the  men 
drew  closer,  and  the  steward  hurried  with 
the  Scotch,  almost  tumbling  in  a  quick 
lurch. 

"  You  know  that  old  trick,  when  the 
fakir  takes  a  boy,  cuts  him  into  pieces, 
and  then  puts  him  together  again  ?  "  said 
the  short  fat  dark  man. 

"  Yes,  but   I  never   knew  a  man  who 
could  swear  positively  he  had  seen  it." 
365 


The  Square  Diamond 

"  I  have  seen  it,"  said  the  short  fat  dark 
man,  swigging  his  Scotch. 

"And  I,"  said  Captain  Willoughby, 
beating  a  tattoo  with  his  boot. 

"  But  while  we  stood  at  first  in  horror, 
in  amazement,  a  boy  climbed  down  a  tree, 
saying  he  had  seen  the  fakir  cut  up  a  squash 
—  that  was  all,"  said  the  short  fat  dark 
man. 

"  You  mean  that  the  boy  was  outside  the 
mesmeric  circle  ?  Do  you  believe  that 
bosh  ?  "  said  one. 

"  I   do,"  said  the  short  fat    dark   man. 

"  I  do,"  said  Captain  Willoughby,  de 
cidedly. 

"  Oh,  you  do  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  I  know,"  said  the  bronzed 
captain,  who  bore  his  fifty  years  as  lightly 
as  a  coquette  her  second  affair.  He  paused, 
looking  about.  Still  the  screw  whirred  its 
chorus  to  the  now  beating  storm.  Wil 
loughby  suddenly  reached  into  his  waist 
coat,  taking  from  a  little  leathern  case  a 
ring,  in  a  curious  setting,  —  a  single,  square 
366 


The  Square  Diamond 

diamond.  Holding  it  up,  he  asked,  "  Do 
you  notice  that  ring  ?  " 

"  It 's  beautiful,"  said  the  short  fat 
dark  man  ;  "  and  the  setting  an  antique,  too. 
But  it 's  hard  to  sell  a  square  stone,  the 
dealers  say." 

"  Yes,"  said  Willoughby.  "  But  the 
setting  is  new,  —  an  imitation  ;  I  had  it 
made  for  the  stone." 

"  Yes,  but  what  has  this  to  do  with 
occultism  and  our  fakir  ?  Is  it  the  old  tale 
of  the  Rajah's  diamond  ?  "  said  the  sceptic. 

"  Yes,  the  old  tale,"  said  Willoughby, 
soberly.  He  put  the  ring  back  into  its 
case  and  looked  about.  He  was  not  given 
to  story-telling,  and  yet  to-night  the  whir 
ring  screw,  the  beating  storm  —  some 
strange  impulse  —  led  him  on. 

"  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was,"  he  said, 
stretching  his  long  legs.  "  That  stone 
cost  me  the  best  servant,  and,  indeed,  the 
best  friend  a  man  ever  had,  —  an  Irish  boy 
who  was  brought  up  with  me.  You  may 
say  what  you  will  about  theosophy,  or  oc- 
367 


The  Square  Diamond 

cultism,  or  fakirism.  I  only  know  what 
I  have  experienced,  and  there  are  twenty 
men  in  the  Sixtieth  Bengal  who  will  bear 
me  out.  I  am  too  old  a  man,  gentlemen, 
to  sneer  at  the  unknown.  I  have  not 
lived  in  India,  and  spent  my  youth  and 
some  health,  without  having  reached  the 
knowledge  that  the  unknown  sits  in  the  lap 
of  the  known,  and  that  there  is  some 
curious  relation  between  matter  and  mind 
which  doubtless  will  be  made  known  some 
day.  Only  the  day  before  our  sailing  you 
heard  of  the  Roentgen  discovery  of  the 
cathodic  rays.  Why  may  there  not  be 
some  light  that  one  mind  may  shed  on 
another,  creating  an  illusion  ?  That  is 
mesmerism,  you  may  say.  Why  may 
there  not  be  a  material  object,  like  my 
square  diamond,  which  may  be  able,  in 
connection  with  some  particular  personality, 
to  produce  certain  illusions  ?  " 

"  Can  you  do  it  with  your  diamond  ?  " 
asked  the  sceptic. 

"  Listen,"  Willoughby  continued,  almost 
368 


The  Square  Diamond 

sternly,  "  and  I  will  tell  you  why  I  always 
carry  that  stone  with  me,  a  circumstance 
which  may  appear  strange.  I  don't  know 
why  I  tell  the  story  now ;  but  I  have 
begun,  and  something  seems  to  make  me. 

"  Two  years  ago  I  had  been  down  in 
the  old  place  in  Devon,  and  there  developed 
a  sentimentality  —  you  know  how  it  may 
be  with  a  very  old  bachelor  —  requiring  a 
ring.  Passing  a  shop  in  Regent  Street,  I 
saw  in  a  tiara  —  a  new  one,  made  in  an 
old  fashion  —  this  stone.  I  have  a  fancy 
for  unusual  things,  you  know.  The  man 
agreed  to  take  the  stone  from  the  tiara." 

" l  Your  taste  is  excellent,  sir,'  he  was 
pleased  to  comment,  in  their  way.  c  The 
stone  is  very  old ;  five  thousand  years, 
maybe ;  an  Indian  stone  from  an  old  tiara/ 

" c  The  present  setting  is  modern.' 

" l  Yes,  I  tried  to  imitate  the  idea  of  the 
old  piece  —  that  is  all.  I  came  by  the 
stone  very  curiously.' 

" *  How  curiously  ? ' 

"  He  moved  uneasily. 
24  369 


The  Square  Diamond 

u '  I  can't  tell  you,  sir.' 

"  I  looked  at  him  narrowly ;  yet  it  was 
one  of  the  best  shops  in  London,  and  why 
should  I  ask  questions  ?  We  bargained  a 
bit,  and  securing  the  stone  at  a  remarkably 
low  price  —  it  seemed  to  me,  considering 
its  intrinsic  value  and  Regent  Street  —  I 
drew  myself  a  design  for  a  fitting  setting 
to  carry  a  unique  gem.  But  when  my 
ring  was  ready,  my  sentimental  affair  was 
over,  like  many  another  in  my  life ;  and  I 
simply  had  the  ring,  instead  of  its  once 
probable  wearer.  On  my  return  to  India, 
and  in  my  duties,  which  came  over  me 
with  all  the  force  of  habit  to  a  man  long 
in  the  service,  I  almost  forgot  it. 

"  Well,  a  year  ago,  if  you  may  re 
member,  came  the  little  trouble  with  the 
little  Rajah  of  Renaub.  You  may  not 
even  remember  it,  or  know  that  Renaub 
is  on  the  northern  border  among  the 
Himalayas.  The  affair  did  not  amount 
to  much,  and  I,  with  some  twenty  men  of 
the  Sixtieth  Bengal,  had  reason  to  curse  it 
370 


The  Square  Diamond 

—  and  particularly  my  servant,  Teddy 
Burns,  had  his  reason,  poor  devil ! 

"  In  the  first  place,  we  were  stationed  in 
a  narrow,  barren,  gray  valley,  a  pass  per 
haps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  broad,  with  a  sheer 
rise  of  the  gray  mountains  five  thousand 
feet  each  side.  The  valley  is  about  fifteen 
miles  wide,  opening  at  the  north  on  the 
plateau  of  Renaub.  We  were  at  a 
wretched  village,  some  five  miles  from  the 
northern  opening,  a  station  with  an  official. 
The  official  had  a  wife,  a  pale  little  London 
woman,  worn  out  by  Indian  life.  I  pitied 
the  pair  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  in 
that  God-forsaken  spot  —  not  the  only 
dismal  spot  in  India,  as  I  know.  We 
played  cards,  and  talked,  and  drank,  until 
we  were  tired  of  ourselves;  and  the  man's 
sad-eyed  pale  little  wife  would  chatter  of 
London,  and  tell  how  she  longed  to  see 
just  Trafalgar  Square. 

"One  afternoon,  going  back  to  my 
quarters,  I  had  occasion  to  look  for  some 
thing  in  a  box,  when  out  tumbled  a  case  with 
371 


The  Square  Diamond 

some  pins  and  trinkets  which  Teddy  had  put 
in,  probably  thinking  that  Renaub  was  a 
gay  spot,  and  that  I  might  wish  to  dress  up. 
I  opened  it,  throwing  out  among  other 
things  the  ring,  which  I  had  forgotten. 
What  I  wanted  was  a  little  painting  on 
porcelain  —  very  decently  done  —  of  our 
place  in  Devon,  which  I  wished  to  show 
to  the  homesick  woman.  As  I  looked  at 
it,  leaving  the  other  things  on  the  table,  I 
heard  a  rustling  behind,  and  saw  a  tall,  thin 
native  peering  over  my  shoulder.  His 
ascetic  face  was  illuminated  by  great  eyes, 
with  a  reddish  glow  as  of  rubies  —  greedy, 
covetous. 

"  <•  What  the  devil  ? '  I  began. 

"  '  Did  the  Sahib  call  ? '  he  said,  bend 
ing.  I  thought  he  might  be  a  servant  I 
had  not  seen. 

" '  Get  out ! '  I  said,  simply ;  for  such 
a  place  leaves  you  irritable ;  when  he 
turned,  and,  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  per 
sonage,  stalked  through  the  door. 

" c  Teddy,'    I    called,    thinking    Teddy 
372 


The  Square  Diamond 

could  not  be  far  away.     And  sure  enough 
Teddy  appeared. 

" c  What  are  you  coming  to  in  your  old 
age,  that  you  need  an  assistant  to  help  you 
now  ? '  I  asked. 

" c  What  d'  yez  mean,  sor  ? '  said  Teddy, 
most  respectfully,  although  the  words  may 
not  so  sound. 

" '  Who  was  the  man  in  here  just 
now  ? ' 

" c  I  saw  no  one,  sor.' 

" '  Did  n't  you  pass  him,  coming  in  ? ' 

"  '  Who,  sor  ?  ' 

"  The  matter  seemed  strange.  I  knew 
Teddy  would  n't  lie  ;  and  I  concluded  it 
had  been  some  familiar  servant  who  had 
the  run  of  the  house,  whom,  in  a  short 
stay,  neither  Teddy  nor  I  had  noticed. 

" l  Put  those  things  up  then,'  I  said, 
knowing  Teddy  was  incorruptible,  and 
starting  to  take  the  porcelain  to  our 
official's  wife.  I  hardly  was  at  the  outer 
door  when  I  heard  a  scuffle  and  a  muffled 
cry.  With  a  sudden  fear  I  rushed  back, 
373 


The  Square  Diamond 

and  at  the  threshold,  for  a  moment,  stood 
horrified.  Teddy  was  stretched  speechless 
in  a  pool  of  blood,  a  knife  with  a  strangely 
carved  handle  sticking  in  his  side ;  and  a 
stealthy  figure  —  the  same  that  had  faced 
me  so  shortly  before  —  stood  over  him. 
For  a  moment  we  looked  at  each  other; 
for  a  moment  I  could  not  move ;  and 
then,  with  a  snarl,  the  creature  sprang 
toward  me.  I  was  ready  for  him,  but  he 
slipped  through  my  hands,  and  passed  me 
—  through  the  door. 

"  Raising  a  dreadful  cry,  I  was  after. 
At  the  outside  door  I  saw  him,  a  lithe 
figure,  that  had  dropped  the  loin-cloth 
from  his  naked  legs,  running  up  the  valley, 
past  three  of  my  men,  who  were  on 
ponies. 

"'Stop  him  !'  I  cried.  But  he  slipped 
past;  and  before  they  had  recovered  from 
their  astonishment  I  was  by  them. 

"  c  Go  in  !  Look  to  Teddy,'  I  called, 
dragging  one  from  his  pony  and  taking  his 
seat. 

374 


The  Square   Diamond 

" '  After  him !  '  I  said,  kicking  my 
brute.  4  Shoot  him,  if  you  can  bring  him 
down.'  I  had  n't  my  pistols. 

"  And  we  chased  up  that  brown  valley 
under  the  glaring  North  Indian  sun.  He 
seemed  to  run  as  fast  as  our  ponies ;  but 
at  last  we  gained  a  little.  He  looked 
about,  showing  white,  grinning  teeth. 
Two  of  the  men  answered  with  pistol- 
shots.  I  bent  well  onto  the  pony's  neck. 

"  c  Where  is  he  ? '  asked  one  of  the 
men. 

"  l  Where  —  ? '  began  the  other. 

"  For  before  our  eyes  the  runner  had 
vanished,  faded,  what  you  will ;  and 
where  he  should  have  been  was  a  lean 
wolf,  turning  now  and  then  hungry  eyes, 
and  snarling  lips,  and  grinning  teeth. 

"The  thing  was  so  uncanny  that  I 
pulled  up  my  pony  ;  and  then  was  charg 
ing  up  to  the  spot  where  the  man  had 
disappeared  and  the  wolf  appeared  —  be 
lieving  he  had  found  a  hole  in  the  earth. 
But  there  the  short,  yellow  furze  was  un- 
375 


The  Square  Diamond 

broken.  There  was  another  click  and 
report  —  a  long,  horrid,  brutish  howl  — 
and  the  wolf  was  over  a  low  slope,  too, 
out  of  view,  and  the  men  after.  After  a 
moment  I  followed,  to  find  them  dis 
mounted  by  the  man  we  had  been  chasing 
—  without  a  wolf  in  sight ;  the  man  on 
his  back. 

"  '  Damn  it,  sir,  where  's  the  wolf  ? ' 
one  of  my  bewildered  fellows  asked. 

"  The  great  eyes  stared  brutishly  up  to 
mine.  One  fist  was  clinched.  With  sud 
den  expectation  I  leaned  over  and  opened 
the  sinewy  fist,  when  from  it  fell  the  ring. 
I  put  it  into  my  pocket,  leaving  the  men 
with  the  dead  thing,  and  rode  back  to 
Teddy,  only  to  be  met  by  my  friend  the 
official.  Teddy  was  dead,  like  his  mur 
derer,  who  proved  to  be  unknown  at  the 
station,  and  was  probably  some  wandering 
thief. 

"  I  told  the  eager  listener  of  our  hallu 
cination. 

" l  The  men  will  swear  to  it,  and  I.' 
376 


The  Square  Diamond 

"  He  looked  at  me  a  moment,  curiously. 

" '  I  have  lived  too  long  in  India  to 
doubt  it,'  said  he,  slowly.  l  Tell  me  how 
did  you  come  by  the  stone  ? '  When  I 
had  finished  he  asked,  strangely  :  — 

" '  Have  you  not  heard  that  a  certain 
mind  associated  with  a  certain  talisman 
can  produce  such  an  illusion  ? ' 

" 4 1  have  seen  it,'  said  I. 

"  As  I  said  at  the  beginning  of  this 
story,  '  I  have  seen  it.'  That  square  dia 
mond  at  any  rate  cost  me  the  best  servant 
a  man  ever  had  —  more  than  servant,  a 
friend.  Whether  it  were  ordinary  cupid 
ity,  or  some  desire  for  that  particular  stone, 
I  cannot  say.  But  I  saw  the  wolf  where 
the  man  was,  and  the  dead  man  where  the 
dead  wolf  should  have  been.  Some  per 
sons  would  have  given  the  diamond  away, 
or  have  sold  it,  but  I  have  kept  it." 

"  There  was  no  boy  up  a  tree  outside 
the  mesmeric  influence,"  said  the  sceptic. 
"  May  I  see  that  stone  again  ? " 

"Yes,    certainly,"    said    Captain    Wil- 
377 


The  Square  Diamond 

loughby,  taking  the  diamond  from  the 
case.  "  That  thing  happened  a  year  ago 
to-day." 

They  passed  it  from  hand  to  hand  j  and 
above  the  storm  roared. 

"  Will  you  mind  if  I  look  at  it,  sir  ? " 
asked  a  low,  distant  voice.  They  looked 
up  startled,  for  no  one  had  seen  this 
last  entering ;  they  saw  a  tall,  dark  person, 
modishly  dressed  —  with  all  the  western 
affectations  of  some  East  Indians. 

"You  were  listening,"  said  Willoughby. 
"  I  did  n't  hear  or  see  you.  I  must  have 
been  so  absorbed  in  my  story.  Certainly, 
sir.  I  should  like  to  have  one  of  your 
race  look  at  that  stone." 

A  lean,  sinewy  hand  stretched  out, 
grasping  the  stone.  Willoughby  shivered 
and  looked  up. 

"Where  the  devil?"  he  began;  for 
hand,  and  ring,  and  man,  were  not  there. 
They  rubbed  their  eyes,  ran  into  the  pas 
sage. 

The  steward  was  called.  He  knew  no 
378 


The  Square  Diamond 

one  on  the  ship  answering  the  description, 
nor  did  the  thorough  search  the  next  morn 
ing  show  the  thief;  perhaps  he  had  been 
some  strange  stowaway,  perhaps  he  had 
been  washed  from  the  deck. 

The  "  Britannia  "  then  was  tossing  and 
groaning  in  the  arms  of  the  roaring  storm, 
and,  as  far  as  that  ship's  company  was  con 
cerned,  the  dark-visaged  unknown  seemed 
to  have  gone  back  into  the  tempest  whence 
he  had  come. 


379 


A  Tale  of  the  Ghost 
of  the  Stretching  Moor 


381 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 


383 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox1 

I  HAD  had  all  kinds  of  predictions  of 
what  might  happen  in  that  region ; 
but  yet  exactly  nothing  had,  although  an 
official  of  one  arrondissement  had  detained 
us  two  days.  I  say  us ;  for,  although  I 
had  started  alone  from  Genoa  for  the  long 
eight  hundred  miles'  wheel,  I  had  come, 
early  along  the  Corniche  road,  on  Pierson, 
a  little  chap  from  Manchester,  who  was 
deploring  a  punctured  tire,  and  whom  I 
helped  with  my  kit.  He,  too,  was  in 
search  of  the  adventure  of  the  road,  and 
fell  easily  into  my  purpose,  and  I  had 

1  This  tale  has  been  reprinted  so  often,  in 
England  and  America,  without  the  author's 
name,  or  credit  to  the  original  publication,  that 
the  author  has  been  tempted  to  add  it  to  this 
collection. 

2s  385 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

found  him  quiet,  and  not  too  cleverly  dis 
tracting.  I,  indeed,  don't  know  what  I 
should  have  done  without  him  in  the  long 
distances  beyond  Marseilles,  when  on  the 
fourth  day  we  fell  into  a  region  of  peas 
antry  speaking  a  patois  that  was  about  as 
impenetrably  dense  as  their  superstitions 
and  distrust  of  strangers.  Yet,  all  went 
well  enough  until  that  afternoon,  when  in 
a  desolate  stretch  of  moor  we  rode  into 
the  jaws  of  howling  thunder  and  tossing 
rain.  The  way  fell  a  bit  hilly  and  rutty, 
with  a  coating  of  sickening  mud  to  retard. 
Drenched  and  disheartened,  the  moor 
seemed  limitless.  We  must  have  erred  at 
a  cross-road  ;  for  the  inn  we  hoped  for  did 
not  appear :  not  a  house,  nor  a  human 
being,  nor  dog  nor  sheep.  We  might 
have  turned  back,  but  we  had  come  so  far 
that  it  seemed  better  to  paddle  on  with 
dull  persistence.  The  scurrying  wet  bit 
our  faces  brutishly  ;  and  our  legs  were  like 
mechanical  metal  cylinders,  had  it  not  been 
for  their  remonstranceful  aching;  and,  to 
386 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

add  to  our  weary  dismay,  the  night  reached 
across  the  waste,  crushing  us  with  fear 
some  shadows.  We  indeed  were  about 
yielding,  when  suddenly  a  burst  of  livid 
lightning  showed  a  great  battlemented 
house  to  which  the  path  led,  —  displayed 
it  surprisingly,  for  it  seemed  as  if  we 
should  have  seen  it  before.  Directly  we 
were  on  it,  and,  leaving  the  wheels,  poked 
toward  it,  wondering  why  none  had  given 
us  question,  and  why  there  was  no  gleam 
of  light  through  any  chink.  A  great  outer 
gate  was  open,  and  we  groped  to  an  inner 
at  the  bottom  of  the  narrowing  passage ; 
and  then  a  more  penetrating  flash  struck  a 
glare  over  a  broad  door,  and  there  looked 
down  a  great  bronze  fox's  head  with  the 
knocker  ring  listless  from  its  jaw.  Our 
impatience  left  us  no  discretion  ;  the  black 
ness  was  provoking ;  and  I  raised  the  ring, 
which  struck  a  chill  through  my  gloved 
finger.  The  spot  where  it  fell  may  have 
been  cushioned  ;  for  we  were  dumfounded 
by  silence,  when  the  door  was  opened  as  of 
387 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

its  own  volition,  —  sending  a  certain  splen 
did  glow  over  us,  —  the  light  of  many 
candles,  and  the  sight,  and  strangely  not 
the  crackle,  of  a  burning  log  in  a  deep  fire 
place  at  a  long  hall's  end.  The  furnish 
ings,  elaborate  in  the  extreme,  were  of 
Henri  Quatre.  Portraits  and  mailed  figures 
lined  the  walls.  The  flickering  light  sought 
the  polish  of  the  oaken  flooring  and  ceil 
ing  ;  and  close  at  the  door  was  a  lackey, 
—  a  tall,  dark  fellow,  with  a  dash  of  the 
hired  bravo  you  gather  from  old  books  and 
old  pictures  ;  for  he  was  dressed  in  livery 
fitting  the  period  of  all  the  decoration  of 
this  interior.  His  voice  surprised  us  quite 
as  much  as  this  unexpected  splendor  of 
light  that  no  chink  had  revealed  to  us 
when  groping  outside ;  a  faint  sounding 
yet  distinct  tone,  in  French  that  we  under 
stood,  although  it  seemed  not  exactly  the 
French  we  were  schooled  to,  no  more  than 
the  patois  of  that  district. 

"  The  Sieur  de  Bellaire,  sirs,  has  been 
waiting  you,  and  despairing  of  yourappear- 
388 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

ance  has  sat  down  to  dinner,  telling  me  to 
show  you  there." 

I  began,  and  Pierson  bore  out  my  dis 
claimer,  that  he  was  mistaken ;  that  we 
could  not  be  expected ;  that  we  were 
simply  itinerant  bicyclists  lost  in  the  blind 
ness  of  the  storm  on  the  stretching  moor. 
And  we  wondered  who  this  gentleman 
could  be  who  displayed  so  bizarre  a  taste 
in  furnishing  and  in  the  dress  of  his  lackey, 
in  this  forsaken  spot  j  adding  this  new 
aberration  to  many  previous  ones  in  my 
observation  of  the  eccentricity  possible 
in  eccentric  millionnaires.  Surprise  was 
doubled  by  the  man's  quick  retort : 

'.l  Ah,  gentlemen,  no  mistake  has  been 
made  —  I  assure  you." 

And  although  he  looked  at  us  slyly,  yet 
his  manner  seemed  to  reflect  a  master's 
cordiality.  I  thought  of  all  I  had  heard 
of  strange  personages  who  keep  their  doors 
open  for  chance  guests.  Perhaps  a  glass 
had  revealed  us  a-struggling  on  the  moor 
along  the  path  ending  in  this  unexpected 
389 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

welcome.  And,  mistake  or  no,  our  con 
dition  and  weariness  and  hunger,  made  us 
accept,  after  our  proper  disclaimer  had 
been  disallowed.  We  asked  but  to  go 
back  for  our  wheels,  when  the  man  said  he 
would  care  for  them,  and  that  his  master 
ought  not  to  be  kept  waiting  longer.  The 
master  would  excuse  our  appearances, 
if  we  should  join  him  at  once ;  and  we, 
now  inclined  to  see  the  adventure  to  its 
end,  followed  with  some  amazement  that 
the  burning  log  on  the  hearth  seemed  to 
give  out  no  warmth  ;  and,  yet,  perhaps  the 
chill  from  the  moor  had  reached  the  mar 
row  so  penetratingly  that  a  whiff  of  heat 
failed  to  affect  us. 

We  were  ushered  into  a  great  dining 
hall  where  a  table  was  elaborately  spread 
with  quaint  and  strange  dishes,  —  all,  it 
seemed,  of  the  gone  day  of  Henri  Quatre  ; 
and  it  was  a  gentleman  of  that  period, 
nicely  attired  in  silk  and  hose  and  flowing 
linen,  who  bowed  urbanely,  and  motioned 
us  to  the  board  where  places  for  two  showed 
390 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

that  we  alone  were  expected.  Yet  for  a 
moment  we  paused,  oblivious  of  manners, 
at  the  host's  face  :  thin,  narrow,  clever, 
cunning,  high-bred,  with  strange  tossing 
black  eyes  ;  and  the  voice  had  that  same 
French,  which  had  certain  antique  phrases 
reminding  me  of  an  essai  of  the  Sieur 
de  Montaigne.  For  the  Sieur  de  Bellaire 
appeared  to  have  that  nice  sense  in  this 
masquerade  which  Mr.  Irving  brings  to 
the  setting  of  a  play,  where  accuracy  in 
every  detail  is  to  be  sought.  The  mouth 
put  the  expression  of  this  gentleman's  face, 

—  with  cruel  lines  and  eager  white  teeth 
now  and  again  showing,  —  something  bely 
ing  the  graces  of  exquisite  breeding.     Yet 
when  he  spoke  this  feeling  faded,  and  we 
sat,  on  his  motion,  to  our  places. 

"You  have  kept  me  waiting,  gentlemen," 
said  he,  with  gentle  suavity ;  "  and  yet  I 
think  you  will  find  the  dinner  not  so  bad 

—  for  a  country  house." 

We  again  cried  out  a  mistake  had  been 
made ;   when  he  smilingly  said  that  this  was 
39  r 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

not  so,  and  that  were  it  not  for  the  favor  of 
the  storm  he  should  have  dined  alone.  The 
man  who  had  admitted  us  returned,  and 
became  the  waiter,  gliding  about,  serving  us, 
and  pouring  out  from  a  dusty  flagon  some 
heavy  wine  that  sparkled  with  delicious 
suggestiveness,  and  sent  a  subtle  fire  which 
stole  the  chill  away.  We  began  to  talk 
with  loosened  tongues,  while  our  host 
watched  us  as  if  amused  at  our  subjects  j 
as  if  he  indeed  were  a  gentleman  of  the  old 
time  who  heard  us  as  one  might  the  re 
doubtable  Baron  Munchausen ;  watched 
us  with  a  sneer  that  was  only  half  covert  ; 
and  yet,  while  listening,  said  absolutely 
nothing  of  himself;  and  but  shrugged  his 
shoulders  when  we  exclaimed  at  the  exact 
taste  which  had  made  this  perfect  illusion  of 
a  long  gone  day.  And  when  we  had  done 
—  remarking  at  the  oddity  of  the  viands, 
as  well  as  at  their  appetizing  qualities  — 
he  still  said  naught  of  himself,  leaving 
us  wondering  the  more  at  the  Sieur  de 
Bellaire ;  that  we  never  should  have  heard 
392 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

of  him ;  and  that  any  person,  even  with  a 
millionnaire's  power,  could  produce  such  an 
effect. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  he,  and  I  fancied  a 
gleam  of  his  eyes  and  a  twitching  of  his 
lips,  "  I  will  explain.  Now,  I  know  you 
are  weary,  and  Theodor  will  show  you  to 
your  lodging,  which  I  hope  may  prove 
satisfactory." 

When  we  answered  that  nothing  could 
be  more  pleasingly  perfect  than  this  choice 
hospitality  to  belated  strangers,  he  bowed 
with  sudden,  curt  dismissal,  while  the  man, 
candle  in  hand,  beckoned  to  the  door. 
Not  wishing  to  press  our  appreciation  — 
in  this  sudden  display  of  haughtiness — we 
followed,  through  interminable  corridors, 
into  a  great  damp,  tapestried  chamber, 
where  the  servant  lit  a  score  of  candles, 
that  but  seemed  to  increase  a  sense  of 
gloom.  A  great  bed,  such  as  you  may  see 
in  the  museum  of  Cluny,  was  at  one  side  ; 
but  the  room  was  singularly  cheerless,  as 
the  servant's  steps  sounded  and  faded  out- 
393 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

side  the  closed  door.  Then  we  turned  to 
question  each  other's  impression ;  to  voice 
our  wonder ;  to  notice  a  fox  on  the  mount 
ings  ;  to  pause  with  sudden  horror  and 
amazement  at  a  full  length  portrait  of  our 
host  opposite  the  bed.  There  he  stood, 
looking  at  us  in  Henri  Quatre  costume ; 
the  same  restless  eyes,  the  gleam  of  white 
teeth  under  thin  exasperating  lips.  And 
watching,  I  grew  to  fear  and  hate  that 
face. 

Pierson  shared  my  feeling.  The  whole 
adventure  had  been  so  unaccountable, 
the  object  of  our  entertainer  even  on  the 
score  of  eccentricity  so  inexplicable,  that, 
as  sane  and  strong  as  we  were,  we  readily 
agreed  to  lie  down  on  the  bed  without 
removing  our  clothes,  and  to  leave  the 
candles  burning.  A  heavy  key  turned 
rustily  in  the  lock.  When  I  crept  to 
Pierson's  side,  he  already  seemed  to  be 
sunken  in  slumber,  as  was  reasonable  after 
our  many  weary  miles  that  day.  But  I  at 
first  could  not  sleep,  as  exhausted  as  I  was. 
394 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

That  striking  portrait  faced  me  and  made 
me  dread  ;  and  yet,  at  last  nature  had  her 
way. 

I  waked  suddenly  with  the  dread  gripping 
my  heart  —  awoke  horribly  in  the  pain  of 
nightmare,  my  eyes  on  the  portrait  of  the 
Sieur  de  Bellaire,  that  the  still  flickering 
candles  showed.  Or  was  it  the  portrait  ? 
I  stared;  I  feared.  Ah,  such  horrid  fear 
that  it  was  !  sickening  me  even  now. 
The  Sieur  de  Bellaire  was  advancing  out 
of  his  frame,  was  nearing  me ;  and  sud 
denly  leaning  forward  thrust  his  teeth  into 
my  throat.  I  could  feel  a  stinging,  biting 
pain  ;  and  then  I  had  strength  to  exert 
myself  against  the  Thing.  We  strove 
mightily :  I  for  life,  the  Thing  for  desire. 
I  know  of  nothing  more  terrible  than  that 
struggle.  I  know  of  nothing  that  sends  a 
chill  like  that  of  death  through  the  veins 
even  now.  For  this  was  a  struggle  of  life 
and  death  ;  the  thing  was  ice  that  froze 
my  heart,  that  wanted  my  warm  blood  to 
thaw  its  own  iciness  of  death  ;  and  as  we 
395 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

rolled  and  struggled,  I  heard  no  sound 
from  Pierson.  Was  he  dead  ?  I  knew 
not.  And  sometimes  the  cruel  Thing  with 
the  bestial  fangs  had  the  better ;  and  then 
the  desire  for  my  own  life  was  greater 
than  its  desire  for  it ;  and  I  mastered  it. 
Yes,  life  mastered  the  thing  of  death  that 
fought  for  the  life  in  me  ;  and  when  I 
knew  that  I  had  thrust  it  from  me,  my  life 
went  out  of  me. 

And  yet  I  don't  know.  If  it  had  been 
that  I  died  —  that  Pierson  died  —  I  should 
not  be  telling  this  story.  I  awoke,  with  a 
sense  of  warmth,  among  tall  grass,  and  the 
life-giving  sun  on  my  face;  and  raising 
myself,  I  looked  out  on  a  far  reach  of 
moor,  the  sun  of  the  day-break  caught  in 
the  yellow  grass  tops.  No  person,  no  liv 
ing  thing  was  in  view  ;  yes,  there  was  a 
house  on  a  near  road  ;  but  where  was  the 
battlemented  house  of  the  night  before  ? 
And  I  saw  Pierson  sleeping  at  my  side ; 
and  then,  raising  himself,  he  turned  on  me 
a  fearful,  questioning  stare.  I  noticed  our 
396 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

wheels  lying  at  our  sides,  as  if  we  had 
fallen  from  them  where  we  were.  And 
then  I  had  a  pain  at  the  throat,  and  feeling 
there  knew  it  had  been  torn,  and  was  still 
bleeding ;  and  Pierson's  throat  had  some 
unaccountable  mark. 

Shortly  we  began  to  question  each  other 
in  hoarse  unnatural  voices ;  and  his  story 
was  as  mine.  Yet  we  said  nothing  in 
surprise.  We  did  not  call  each  other 
liars  !  For  we  knew.  And,  so,  too  lame 
to  mount  even  when  we  found  the  path, 
we  turned  toward  the  house  we  had  seen, 
limping,  with  aching  muscles. 

The  house  proved  to  be  the  inn  we  had 
been  seeking  in  the  night's  storm.  There 
we  breakfasted,  and  then  began  to  ask  in 
the  tap-room  of  the  Sieur  de  Bellaire,  of 
the  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox.  Perhaps 
they  did  not  understand,  for  as  we  ques 
tioned  they  slunk  away.  But  a  barefoot 
mendicant,  a  brown  cowled  monk  who  was 
listening,  came  forward  crossing  himself, 
and  surprising  us  with  excellent  English  : 
397 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

"  You  passed  a  night  in  the  House  of 
the  Bronze  Fox  ?  " 

"Yes." 

The  monk  looked  at  us  curiously,  again 
fingering  his  rosary. 

"  Who  is  this  Sieur  de  Bellaire  ?  " 

"  There  is  none." 

"  There  is  none  ?  " 

"  He  died  in  Henri  Quatre's  reign." 

"  He  died  ?     And  the  house  ?  " 

"  There  is  only  the  cellar  where  the 
house  was." 

"  And  what  of  that  we  saw  ?  " 

"  Who  knows  ?  " 

The  monk  paused  strangely, — 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  that  there  may 
be  dead  who  try  to  steal  the  life  from  the 
living  ?  "  he  said  with  strange,  searchful 
eyes  on  me ;  and  he  turned,  still  fingering 
the  rosary,  and  went  out  of  the  door.  We 
paused,  looking  at  each  other,  and  then 
too  late  —  for  the  monk  had  gone —  tried 
to  inquire  of  the  men  in  the  inn.  They 
but  stared  at  us  stupidly  as  not  understand- 
398 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

ing  us  ;  nor  could  we  make  anything  of 
their  patois. 

Pierson  pulled  me  out  into  the  sunshine, 
his  face  ashen,  and  motioned  to  our  wheels. 
I  understood,  and  with  that  same  impulse 
of  flight,  too,  mounted.  The  sun  had 
dried  the  mud  coating  on  that  good  road ; 
the  summer  morning  drove  the  night  out 
of  our  brains ;  and  as  we  wheeled  along, 
our  pulses  again  beating  regularly,  our 
blood  warm,  the  events  of  the  night  grew 
dimmer.  They  seemed  but  parts  of  a 
nightmare.  It  was  as  if  we  both  had  had 
a  fall  in  the  storm  that  had  left  us  uncon 
scious  until  dawn ;  that  had  put  the  same 
scars  on  our  throats ;  that  had  stirred  the 
same  fancies  in  our  brains.  Nor  now  can 
we  be  positive  that  it  was  else  than  dream 
—  an  accident,  when  in  the  tempest  we 
wheeled  out  of  our  path,  and  the  weariness 
of  utter  exhaustion  wrought  strange  de 
lusions.  When  late  that  afternoon  we 
were  wheeling  in  a  wooded  country  no  one 
seemed  to  know  even  the  location  of  the 
399 


The  House  of  the  Bronze  Fox 

moor  ;  nor  have  we  since  been  able  to  put 
it.  It  was  all  a  nightmarish  thing,  that 
may  or  may  not  have  come  from  physical 
exhaustion,  we  said  j  and  yet,  saying  so 
much,  we  turned  on  each  other  eyes  of 
dread  lest  there  might  be  contradiction; 
and  even  yet,  it  is  the  same  with  us  on  the 
subject  of  that  dream  of  the  moor. 


400 


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